Georgia Blue
by K. Lynn Perks
Summary: [AU fic] Beth finally comes to terms with her miserable life on the farm after her Daddy is thrown in jail. She decides to run away to Nashville. While hitchhiking she crosses paths with those who want to help her; others only seem to drag her further away. To make matters worse she gets herself caught up with the Dixon brothers. [Eventual Bethyl] [Eventual cameos by all]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I own NOTHING!

**Note**: This is a complete **AU Walking Dead fic** tied together with some general ideas from the movie Hick. It doesnt matter if you've never seen the movie. There are only plot elements used to further the characters journey. With that said this story is a work in progress. It will end up being lengthy so updates may not be as frequent as they are with my other story As I Lay Dying.

Either way your support is always needed and loved. Reviews would always be appreciated.

Remember this story is **total AU** so characters may come off a bit different. Plus we wont be running into all the beloved characters right away. I promise they all will show up eventually though. Ok...on with the story.

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Georgia Blue

_Chapter 1 - Birthday Blues_

Hermann Hesse once said, "One never reaches home, but where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time". I ain't entirely sure what that means, just know that my Daddy used to say it when he took our family out to the mountains on camping trips. He used to pull me close to his side, his chin coming to rest atop my head, and he'd say, "Just look around ya, Bethy, look at how much beauty there is out there in the world". At the time I thought he meant trees and flowers; all those things that surrounded us and made us feel infinite for a time. Sometimes if I press my eyelids together real hard I can still hear him say those things. But flowers and trees; they weren't real things that could talk or walk. Even when they died it didn't hurt anyone. Another tree would grow and another flower would bloom. Nature was a never ending merciless cycle.

"Happy Birthday, Beth!" my sister Maggie leaned in and pressed a kiss to my temple, "Yer eighteen now! Make a wish." Her hand pushed a vending machine snack cake towards me. I didn't know where she got the candle from.

My elbows were propped up on the bar counter, the sticky residue of some long lost spilled drink seeped into my skin.

"Where's Daddy?" I asked quietly, my eyes flickering through the crowd of usual drunk patrons.

She urged me on. I could tell she was trying her best not to make anything worse for me. Then again I was spending my eighteenth birthday in a bar with a dozen or so of my Daddy's 'friends'. Ya know the kind. The kind that liked to get drunk and pretend they gave two shits about being there for my birthday.

A shadow blocked the rest of the bar from view, "You make a wish yet, darlin'?"

Tyrese had been my brother Shawn's friend before everything went to shit. After the car accident he spent a lot of time round the farm, helping my Daddy out with odds and ends. Mostly I think he was there to console Maggie, but when that relationship never came to be anything he picked up more shifts at the bar until coming around the farm became a conflict in his schedule. I didn't blame him none. Wasn't like there was much to do in a place like Monroe, and if he could get some steady money and get the hell out of dodge I was happy for him.

"You see my Daddy?" I asked him, trying not to notice the look he shot Maggie.

He chuckled, pulled out a haphazardly wrapped package from under the counter, and tossed it in the small pile to my right. "It ain't good luck to let the wax hit the cake. Wish for somethin' big, Bethy." His deep southern voice oozed with pity.

Something inside me hitched up when I looked between the two. I contemplated demanding where Daddy was at, but I had never been much on fighting back.

I puckered my lips and blew a hard blast of air at the candle, half my mind still stuck on Daddy while the other flipped through a dozen wishes that would have been nice to dream about.

Maggie clapped her hands together a bit too enthusiastically and then mussed up my already knotted hair. "Yer like a real woman now, Bethy," she looked across the bar, "Hey ya'll I didn't rent this place for idle chit chat and bullshit. Ty…" she gestured to the bottle of whiskey that was sitting on the counter, prompting Tyrese to pour another round, "Drink up for Bethy, ya'll."

The hooting and hollering could have been mistaken for celebration. I'd been around this crowd long enough to know that they were just happy to have someone else buying their booze and fixin' their habits.

"Glenn!" Maggie had pulled up a chair beside me, her voice cutting through the noise. "Come watch Bethy open her presents!"

Tyrese was pulling my cake away and placing it on the back counter before I could argue. "Can't I just open'em at home Maggie?" Showing off the lack of proper presents would just give the towns people another reason to think our family some redneck farmer trash.

"Course not, silly." She scooted forward so Glenn could rest behind her. "Glenn and I gotcha this one."

Maggie had met Glenn when she packed up her stuff and moved on down to Macon. She had plans. Big plans. She was going to open up a bakery and make enough money so I could move on out and in with her. That had been a year ago. The first time she had brought Glen home I should have known that any chance I'd be moving in with her was over. It wasn't that Maggie didn't care about me. I knew that in some twisted fucked up way she loved me more than she loved anything else. But Maggie had a tendency to lose herself when boys were involved. They blinded her to everything else around her. I didn't blame Glenn. Not really. Just didn't like that he had stolen away the once chance I had of making out of this two bit town.

"Sorry 'bout the wrapping." Glenn mumbled, "I'm not too good with that sort of stuff."

"Why?" I snorted, opening my mouth for some unholy reason, "Cause yer Asian? Gotta be rough seein' with yer eyes like that. "

A heavy smack hit the back of my head, "Beth!" her voice was stern, "You take that back and apologize. Now!" Her hand slapped down and held my wrist, "You apologize or I swear to God I'll take these gifts back and kick everyone out of this bar. This party will be over!"

Glenn rubbed the back of his neck, "its ok, Maggie, you don't need-"

"She needs to apologize, Glenn." She snapped, "She thinks she can run that big ol' mouth of hers just cause she's the baby. Thinks she can get away with it all the time."

My wrist stung where she held it, "I'm sorry, a'right!" I yanked my hand back, "I didn't mean it, Maggie."

"Say it to _his_ face, Beth, not mine!" She squeezed my wrist harder.

"Ow," I yelped, "I'm sorry, Glenn, geez, I'm sorry. Really I am." I had to remember to keep my mouth shut in the future. It was one of the things that always seemed to get me into trouble. Sometimes I didn't know why I said the things I did.

"That's enough, Maggie," Ty had finally leaned over the counter and pried her fingers from my wrist.

There was a long pregnant pause between the four of us; somebody I guess was waiting to break it so we could all go back to pretending that things weren't completely screwed up.

Maggie gave in first, "Fine," she shoved the present back towards me. "Open'em." She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, "Just stop bein' such a selfish brat."

Mustering up the best fake smile I could I began pulling back the wrappings and tossing them on the bar counter.

A thermos. She got me one of those fucking thermos things that kept coffee hot.

"It's real cool, ya see." She had suddenly gone from angry moody Maggie back to giddy over compensating Maggie. I suppose the shot of whiskey Ty had poured her helped out. Her hands were yanking the thermos out of mine and twisting off the top, "See, ya heat up whatever ya want and ya put it inside. Then when ya go to school or somethin' ya can keep it warm all day." As I tossed my gaze to hers I could see how excited she was about it. Even Glenn looked pleased as pie while he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"It's right nice," I pressed another phony smile to my lips, "thank you."

And it went on like this for the next few minutes. You'd think that for a bunch of drunks they'd have given me something resourceful like alcohol or something. At least I'd have been able to dull the pain of this mess of an eighteenth birthday.

"Here darlin'" Ty pushed his box forward, a bit bigger than the rest of them. "This is from me."

It was bigger; much bigger than the rest had been. I guess Ty could sense my excitement because he chuckled as my eyes lit up and began tearing into the wrappings.

"You tryin' to out gift her own family, Ty?" Maggie chuckled, bringing a beer to her lips and chugging down part of the contents.

"Just somethin' a young woman lookin' like her ought to be carryin' now."

The torn off wrappings revealed a box, an old dingy one that read Budweiser on the side. "You got me a case of beer?" I joked, flicking off the tape and pulling open the flaps.

"Jesus Christ, Tyrese what the hell did you get her?" Maggie was leaning into my side; the smell of alcohol pouring from her mouth.

A gun.

He had gotten me a gun. I felt almost foolish lifting it from the box and holding it there in the middle of the bar.

"It ain't a gun, Mags." Tyrese wiped his hands off on the dirty bar rag behind the counter. He reached out and took it from my hands. "It's a .38 Special." He flicked open the chamber, one of the few things I knew about hand guns, spun it round, and then snapped it shut again. He held it up to his eye and aimed it across the room at the dart board, "this is my way of keepin' Beth safe while you're off in Macon."

"I don't like it," Maggie huffed, her arms folding over her chest, "Couldn't you've just gotten her a dog or somethin'? Girls like dogs."

My eyes never left the gun as Ty held it in his hands. Against his palms it looked so much smaller than it really was. Once he handed it back over to me I sensed its true size.

"I ain't a little girl anymore Maggie," I added, sliding my fingers along the wooden grip and letting them rest along the steel barrel. I brought the gun up to my eye just like Ty had done. " I don't want no dog."

Ty chuckled, "Come on Maggie, ya know what some of these back roads are like. Ya can't be too careful round here, and Lord knows yer Pops ain't around enough to be watchin' her."

"She don't need a gun to protect her, Ty," though she didn't say much about Daddy coming to my aide either. At least I knew Ty had my best interests in mind.

My Mamma used to tell me that when I was little my Daddy would take me in his arms and cover my head with my old pink baby blanket. He said it was his way of protecting me from the world. He'd joke that it was magic and that it would block out all the evil in the world. Sometimes I wish I still had that old pink blanket.

The sudden crash from the other end of the bar had most of the crowd laughing and hollerin'. I was shoving the gun back into its box and pilling on the rest of the arbitrary stash when I heard Maggie's voice above the rest.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Daddy?"

I slid from my stool.

"Just stay here, Beth." Ty was calling out, but I had already started pushing by the few drunks in front of me to get to Maggie's voice.

My Daddy was sitting on the floor next to the jukebox; his glass of whiskey had spilled over his already stained white collared shirt. Even from where I was standing I could tell he was beyond his usual caliber of drunkenness. Maybe it was because it was my birthday? Maybe it was because Maggie had been paying the bar tab all night.

" 'm fine, Maggie." He slurred, placing his hand on his knee and trying to push himself back up from the floor.

His hand slipped and he fumbled back again, this time his head hitting the jukebox and causing the music to skip.

"You'd think that Greene girl would use her money to get him some help…not foster his fucking booze problem." The voice was somewhere off to my left, the face blocked by others who were trying to get a good look at my Daddy.

"Ya goin' ta stand there all day or ya goin' ta help me up?" He looked up at Maggie from her spot on the floor.

From where I was standing I could see Maggie's shoulder's start to shake. Glenn's hand reached up to her shoulder and slid down to rest on the small of her back; reminding her that he was there for her and she wasn't alone. Not like me. I looked to my right side. One of the old church members my Daddy used to pal around with was holding a cigarette between his teeth. He looked over at me and grinned; his gapped yellowed teeth had me stepping over to the left and behind a woman I didn't know. I suspected she was one of Maggie's old friends from high school. Course with all the makeup she was wearing I couldn't be quite sure.

"Yer a mess," Maggie's voice wavered, "Look what yer doin' at Bethy's birthday! Makin' a fool out of her."

I could feel all eyes come back to me.

My Daddy snorted back a laugh, "I ain't no fool." This time when he made to move his knee hit the leg of the table. It tumbled over, glasses shattering against the floor and spilling a mixture of whiskey and beer.

Tyrese jumped across the counter.

"Jus' look at you!" Maggie yelled, "Look what yer doin'!"

Glenn started pulling her back from the crowd while Tyrese helped my Daddy to his feet. Between the hootin' and the hollerin' I slinked back to the bar counter and reached out for the vending machine cake they had given to me earlier. During the commotion, Tyrese helpin' Daddy and Maggie fighting Glenn off, I leaned forward and bit down into the stale chocolate.

When things got crazy back at home each of us found our own way of dealing with it. See, before my Mamma and Shawn got into that car accident we had been one of those real picture perfect sort of families. Mamma would wake up early and make us all breakfast before school. Daddy would head out to the barn and take care of the animals. During the evening hours we'd all sit out on the front porch and listen to Shawn and Daddy's friend Otis play their guitars. They'd even let me sing along with them every now and then.

But when the old pickup truck's brakes went out and Daddy got the call from Deputy Shane…things never went back to the way they used to be. Instead of evenings spent out on the porch Daddy started spending his nights out by the barn with a bottle of whiskey. Maggie stopped coming home on school nights. Even Otis and his wife Patricia seemed to find other things to be doing.

When Maggie would come home following mornings Daddy would be nursing one of his famous hangovers. I'd be in the kitchen trying to bake those pies he loved so much. Always thought that the smell of them might make him think of Mamma. Usually they just made him angry 'bout her leaving us so suddenly.

I piled my small bundle of presents into my arms and let Tyrese plant a kiss on my cheek. He'd finally gotten Daddy to leave the bar, and Maggie had finally settled down with Glenn at one of the back booths. I figured they'd be there for a couple more hours, and if I was lucky I could still make it home before midnight.

"You ought to let me drive you, Bethy." Tyrese wiped his thumb across my brow. I could see how sorry he was for me. Sorry that he couldn't just leave the bar and take me home; sorry that even in this horseshit predicament my sister was still too busy playing house with the boy from Macon.

I could still see how much he wanted to be with her. Kinda made me feel sorry for him too.

"I'll be alright, Ty." I smiled, my free hand coming down to rest on the top of the old Budweiser box, "Got a little help if I need it."

"Ya call when ya get home kid, ok?" He reached out and tousled my hair, "Maggie, come say goodbye to yer sister 'fore she leaves!"

Maggie's eyes moved from Glenn's lips and towards where we were standing. I couldn't tell if she was pissed we had interrupted her or pissed that I decided to bow out early. Either way she plastered that phony grin to her face, the one I had become so talented in using, and slid from the booth.

"You leavin' yer own party, Bethy?" her voice may not have slurred as much as Daddy's but I could see that she had consumed enough alcohol to last her through the following week.

I shrugged, "Tired…long day is all."

She didn't bother trying to convince me to stay. Most likely she'd end up bringing Glenn back to the farm for a quick one night lay in the barn and then sneak off before Daddy woke up in the morning. That's usually how things went when she came back to town. It was easier for her that way. I guess I could say that it was easier for me too.

"Come on," she pulled me away from Ty, dragging me towards the exit before wrapping her arm around my shoulders, "Ya know you ought to come down to Macon this July. Glenn and I are goin' ta throw a big ol' 4th of July shin-dig." The old screen door of the bar slammed shut behind us.

"Maybe Maggie," if I could find enough money to take me down that way.

"It'll be good fer ya," she squeezed my shoulder, "I'll give Daddy a call when I think ya should come down."

That was code for 'probably ain't goin' ta happen, Beth'. She liked to say things like this because she knew she had screwed me over when she left for Macon. It was her way of suppressing the guilt. I merely nodded and pulled my gifts even tighter against my chest. Seemed like the only reliable thing right now was the goddamn pistol in its ol' shitty box.

"Bethy, let's go 'ome."

Maybe it was the fact that Daddy was jingling his keys next to the old truck, maybe it was because he was giving me that look that demanded I do what he say; either way I never thought I'd see Maggie sober up so quickly. Suddenly her grip on my shoulder tightened and got protective.

"You ain't drivin' anywhere, Daddy, yer drunk." She nodded to the keys in his hand. "Just give me the keys, stay here awhile and sober up. Ty won't mind."

He stepped forward.

We both stepped back.

"I said get in the car, Bethy," His tone changed from drunkenly playful to somber and serious. When he got like this I tried to keep my distance.

"If yer so set on killin' yerself tonight then you do that Daddy, but ya ain't takin' Beth with ya."

He may have been old but when my Daddy wanted something he was all of twenty years young, ready to knock out anyone who stood in his way. Sometimes that included me and Maggie.

"Ya shut the hell up, Maggie," he yanked at my hair, knocking my presents from me and causing me to scream out.

"Daddy!" I yelled, my hands coming up to my hair and desperately trying to pry them free.

"Jus' let her go, Daddy!" Maggie pounded on his shoulder but he began pulling me back towards the car. "Let her go."

"Daddy please!" My feet dug into the dirt, my old leather cowboy boots sliding against the rocks.

The door to the bar slammed open.

"Christ Hershel!" Tyrese was yanking him off of me before I could catch my footing. I was on my ass in the dirt, tears sliding down my face. He had my Daddy by the collar of his shirt, "what the hell is wrong with you, man? " he shoved him back, causing my Daddy to stumble into the truck.

I was on my knees gathering my scattered gifts, really only caring about the one in the old box. Maggie was busy wiping her nose on her arm, looking between the three of us like we were some daytime reality show.

Tyrese reached down and helped me up, dusting off the bit of dirt from my bum and back. If it had been anyone else I might have thought the gesture crude. He nodded to another truck alongside the bar, "I'm takin' ya home Beth." He looked at Maggie, "Get inside and tell Jimmy to watch the bar."

Other families may have insisted that they all go home together to suss things out. Normal families wouldn't have let an eighteen year old go home alone on her birthday.

Maggie wiped her nose again and stepped back towards the bar door.

Ty was already opening up the truck door and gesturing for me to get in.

My Daddy stood there with his back against his pickup, the same old pickup that had killed my Mamma and Shawn. Never did know why he spent all that money getting it fixed. It only seemed to anger him more every time he drove it.

Ty slipped into the driver's seat, his keys were stashed up above the visor. He clicked on the lights, illuminating my Daddy and the pickup like a damn spotlight. He rolled down the window as he crept the car forward, "Go have some coffee and calm down, Hershel."

It was the only thing he said before he rolled up the window and drove off with me; leaving my Daddy, Maggie and my birthday in the dust behind us.

Don't know what I expected the next morning when I finally woke up. The chickens had started going crazy some hours ago and I guessed that either Daddy was too hung over to get up and feed them or he'd crashed in the back room of the bar.

I slid my window open and looked off towards the coop, "Just shut the hell up, alright!" Wasn't in the mood for none of their shenanigans this early anyway. I slammed the window shut and crossed the room towards my dresser. The old box was sitting there neatly amongst half-filled bottles of cheap perfume and lipsticks I never wore.

My fingers fumbled with the flaps, then gripped around the handle. I turned it over in my hands a few times, studying the weight and trigger like a brand new friend.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and smirked, held the gun up and pointed it at my reflection.

"You done messed with the wrong girl, now, buckaroo." I did a delicate spin, one like you saw in those old movies before the good guy shot down the bad one. "Pop pop pop…" I muttered, holding the gun eye level at myself.

"Ain't such a big dog now, are ya?" I whispered, playing the part I had seen too many times in all those old westerns.

A sigh escaped me, and I quickly tossed the gun back onto my bed before heading to my closet.

Pulling out a semi clean pair of capri jeans and a red halter top I quickly dressed and headed down the stairs. I wasn't expecting to see Maggie standing there making breakfast. I was almost too excited until I saw Glenn sitting at my spot at the kitchen table. Suddenly I didn't feel so much like eating.

"Hiya Bethy!" she chirped, sliding some eggs from a pan and into one of the old glass bowls my Mamma used to use when making breakfast. It had been awhile since Maggie had cooked anything at our house. I wondered if she even realized what bowl she was using.

"Where's Daddy?" I asked almost involuntarily; don't know why I always asked for him first. Guess it was just out of habit.

Maggie tensed the slightest, and Glenn quickly brought a glass of juice up to his lips.

I looked at Maggie again. "Where's Daddy, Maggie? Something happen?"

Suddenly the thought of Daddy driving home last night had my insides twisting up something fierce, and I grabbed on to the back of the kitchen chair to steady myself.

"We got great news, Bethy. Really great news." She clapped her hands together after placing the bowl of eggs down on the table. She leaned forward and wiggled her fingers out in front of me. Right there on her ring finger a sparkly little thing caught my eye. "We are goin' ta be married!"

It wasn't that long ago Maggie and I were sitting up in her room discussing our dream weddings. We had always promised each other that we'd do the whole white wedding with the maid of honor and the silly ol' traditions that everyone down in the church liked so much.

"Married?" I whispered, "Ya both are goin' to be married." I paused, "like to each other?" I added.

Maggie snorted, "Ya are so weird sometimes, Beth, course to each other! Glenn asked me last night, didn't ya baby." She went round the table and kissed the side of his face.

"Just want her to make a real honest man out of me." He mused, and then continued drinking his juice like this was no fucking big deal at all.

My knuckles were turning white on the kitchen chair, "Where's Daddy Maggie?"

She scoffed, "Jesus Beth ya could at least pretend to be happy for us for a fucking second." She slammed a spoon down into the eggs, "He's in jail, alright?" Her hands went to her hips, "The goddamn fool tried to drive his truck after you left and he crashed into the Deputy's car as he was drivin' by."

"So yer sayin' this is my fault?" I exclaimed, stepping away from the table and back towards the staircase.

"I'm just sayin' that if ya had stayed at yer own party he wouldn't have tried to drive off after you," She waved towards the egg bowl. "Now hurry up and come eat yer eggs before they get cold."

I knew our Daddy was a lot of things; a lot of things that Maggie resented which caused her to move so far away. I knew she hated that I had been the last one to talk to Shawn before he died. I knew that she wanted to still be my sister, but sometimes I felt like she couldn't stand being around me anymore.

"Fuck your eggs," I choked out, and then bounded back up the stairs to my room.

My tv remote had broken years ago so I clicked it on with my finger and then bounced back onto my bed. Daddy barely had enough money to pay for the necessary bills so all we got was basic channels. Most of them came in fuzzy like those old 1950's snow covered shows. I didn't care what was on. I just wanted to lose myself in the realm of television and forget the world for just a little while.

A little while turned into an hour. An hour into two.

When I heard the revving of a car I bounced up from my bed and made a dash for the window. Maybe they had let Daddy out early. Maybe Ty had come to check up on us after last night.

Carefully I pulled the curtain back and glanced out into the front yard. Maggie was standing there with Glenn, her old pink suitcase sitting by the trunk. A duffle bag was being tossed into the back seat before Glenn lifted her suitcase and slid it in. I didn't have to guess that she was taking off again. This was the Maggie I had come accustomed to knowing this last year. When she climbed into the passenger seat I could have sworn I saw her look up at my room. I let the curtain fall back, hiding myself away from her and her stupid happiness. I wouldn't let her see me need her. I wouldn't let her see me cry.

By the time the engine of the car faded off into the distance the buzzing from the television brought me back home. Suddenly the house seemed so empty and I was alone. I didn't know when Daddy would be out of jail; I didn't know if I should call Tyrese and ask him for help.

"_Now Miss Mayes, you tell me, just what's it been like for you here in our good ol' city of Nashville?" _

My gaze found its way back to the television. Some pretty red headed starlet beaming into the screen with her guitar strapped around her shoulder.

"_Oh it's been peaches and cream, really. Didn't know ya'll could be so plum nice to a little ol' girl like me." _

"_Well you sure do have the prettiest voice we've ever heard." There was laughter and some applause. "Would ya be so kind as to give us a little something before we let ya go on your way?" _

She was like a songbird. Sitting there in a pretty white dress with her fancy guitar and painted nails. The way the crowd watched her as she sang sent chills through my bones, captivating my senses and taking me away from where I was.

Even when the song faded out, the last chords vibrating through my old tv speakers, I wanted more of her. I wanted more of that feeling.

"_We want to thank ya Miss Mayes for coming out here today and chattin' with us." _

"_Well I wanna thank the people here in Nashville for welcoming me with open arms." _

There was a roar from the crowd. A deafening sound filled with adoration and praise. My Mamma used to tell me I sung like a songbird. She used to tell me I had the prettiest voice this side of the Mississippi.

"I could do that." I whispered, my eyes traveling over to the battered up guitar Shawn used to play. "I could be a songbird."

People always say that when ya leave home ya can always come back to it in the end. If Mamma and Shawn were still alive I'd probably believe all those lies and bullshit that they spoon fed during Sunday school. See the thing is, when the world crumbles down around ya there ain't nothing you can do to glue the pieces back together. They're broken and shattered. It ain't worth no penny to be crying over spilled milk and all that. The best thing ya can do, if ya plan on living, is shaking your fist at the broken mess and moving on.

I slipped on my old brown cowboy boots, shoved a change of clothes and my pistol into my shoulder bag, and checked my reflection.

I could do this. I could be one of those songbirds and show'em all who I really was.

I didn't bother to take my house keys. Instead I climbed up on the kitchen chair to the old cookie jar above the fridge. We had a good three hundred dollars saved for emergencies. Good thing my Daddy was always too drunk to remember it was even there.

Shoving the wad of cash into the pocket of my bag I shimmied back down and then made my way out the front door. It was almost summer, but I flung on my old cardigan sweater over the halter top just in case.

Most people get all sentimental when they decide to leave home. I've seen some of those movies where people would stare at their old house for a good long while before finally turning toe and leaving.

This farm hadn't been a home in a good long while. I shouldered Shawn's old guitar, making sure it didn't hit into my bag too much, and then took a few slow steps backwards.

"See ya'll." And that was that. There wasn't much for me to say goodbye to anymore. I had a city to get to.

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So alas, no Daryl in this chapter. For all of you Daryl lovers I promise he will be showing up soon. His character is an integral part of the fic and will eventually have some romantic relations involved so just be patient. Beth first needs to venture out on her own before he shows and now that she's done that we can really dive into her journey to Nashville.

Leave some reviews and love and let me know what you think! See ya'll soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I still do not own The Walking Dead or the film Hick. I am merely a huge fan of their brilliance.

**Note**: Well hello my lovely people! Thank you so much for your kind words and support for this AU fic! I am always touched by the kind words and suggestions you all send my way. Your excitement for a story fuels my own excitement to work on it. Well I won't bore you with all of my blabbing. This next installment is a HUGE catalyst for the future plot of the story.

**WARNING:** This chapter contains the use of foul language and images.

Here we go…

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_Chapter 2 – Handicapped_

The expanse of road in front of me called out like a dream worth living in. I couldn't deny the bounce in my step as I wandered down the old dirt road, miles out from the farm; miles away from the godforsaken place that had stripped me of my innocent humanity. The curve in the road took me to a crossroads, one I had become familiar with every time Maggie and I had gone out on our old adventures as kids. There had been this one time when I was eight and Maggie thirteen that we decided to walk as far as we could before the sun would start to set. On one particular day we had made it to this exact crossroads, contemplating the next step in our venture, when out of the corner of my eye I spotted something small and furry on the side of the road. Maggie had become all caught up with some boys riding their horses off in the distance pasture, so I took a moment to survey the thing as it lay there; cast aside in a ditch where no one was bound to see it unless they were walking.

"Maggie?" my voice had wavered; tiny feet brushing dust up into the air as I moved closer. Course she didn't answer me.

It was a kitten. A small teeny brown and black kitten, no bigger than my Daddy's fist, curled up into a ball…broken and defeated. Its neck was twisted round so that its lifeless eyes stared up at me, almost like it was begging me to whisk it up into my arms and take it home. If I looked hard enough, squinted my eyes through the blaring Georgia sun, I could have sworn it was still breathing.

But it was nothing but a figment of its former self.

A tiny body left to rot there at the side of the road.

"Ugh, get away from that Beth." Maggie finally tore her eyes from the riders and came up to my side, "Ya don't know if it has diseases or somethin'."

"Can't we take it home?" My eight year old voice pleaded, "It ain't right to just leave it here unburied."

Maggie snorted back another sound of disgust, "I ain't carryin' some dead cat all the way back home, and neither are you."

She had already grabbed my hand and tugged me back up the road towards home. I had wondered for a long time after that how long that kitten remained there in its ditch. Did just decay eventually and turn to dust? Did it just disappear? Did its Mamma wonder what happened to her precious little baby?

I often asked Maggie what she thought about that kitten, but I never got more than a grunt or a shrug from her about it.

My eyes linger at that spot at the crossroads far longer than I would have liked them to. It's the revving of an engine that manages to bring me back to my senses. It's the first ride that's come through this way since I left the farm earlier that morning. I was tired of walking, and right sick of standing at the crossroads trying to figure out which was would get me closer to Nashville. Guess it would have been the smart thing to find a map before leaving the farm.

My foot scuffs the ground in front of me as I contemplate my next move. If this was the only ride to pass by in the next few hours I might as well get busy living. I thrust my thumb out, popped my hip to the side, and waited until the truck came rising up over the distant hill in a cloud of dirt and dust.

A truck! Unabridged horror struck me, wonderin' if my Daddy had somehow figured out I was leaving him. The base of Shawn's old guitar rubbed against the back of my thigh. I held my breath. Holding it back and swallowing down the horror that in just mere seconds I'd be dragged back to hell before I even had a chance to really spread my wings.

Relief washed over me as the truck neared; the rusted orange bumper looked nothing like Daddy's dented silver one. My thumb went straight out again, this time wiggling the slightest with the hope of drawing the driver's attention. I even thought about pushing my breasts forward a bit too really drive it home. Course by the time I flipped my hair over my shoulder the truck was already zooming right on by me. The dust kicked up, circling around my knees and coming up to cover my face.

I coughed, swatted at the air in front of me, and snapped my head around, "Thanks a lot asshole!" I yelled, choking again and waving the dust out of my eyes.

Tires screeched to a sudden stop, the truck idling there for a moment before wheels started spinning in reverse; backing right on up towards me. A funny nervous tickling feeling bubbled up in the middle of my chest, enough so that my feet almost found the will to start running back up the road again. But the window was already rolled down, and the man behind the wheel was lookin' me over with the same leering stare that my Daddy's friend Jim used to give me when I was sixteen.

"Well looky what we got 'ere." He whistled low, "Princess Peaches and her six string geetar." His chest leaned forward to rest against his wheel.

"I ain't a princess." I retorted, taking this moment to suck back all the saliva in my mouth and attempt a well-executed spat at the ground. When Maggie did it she looked tough. I knew I probably looked like an idiot.

He laughed again, "Sure as hell look like a princess." His eyes squinted as he looked me over. "You a Narc or somethin'?"

"I ain't no Narc." I held his stare, thinking about all the times I had to be brave.

"Where ya headed?" He's got on one of them old dingy white tank tops with too many stains and holes. The kind that had me thinking that just maybe he's some criminal that's busted out of jail.

"Nashville." I mutter shyly, suddenly feeling my age while standing there in front of Cowboy Convict.

He snorts.

"Ain't you a little young to be headin' all the way to Nashville by yourself, darlin'?"

"No!" My body straightens up without me really thinking about it, "How bout yourself? Where you driving to, Mister?"

He widens his smile, this time letting me see a line of straight white teeth. Honestly I was pegging him as one of those yellowed gap toothed smokers; color me surprised.

"Name's Merle, not Mister."

I rub the toe of my boot into the dirt road, digging up a pebble and kicking it against the tire as if I'm not really interested in what he's telling me. Maggie used to say that men's interest was always heightened when they felt ignored; kinda like he has to prove himself worthy of my attention or something.

"You a runaway?" His eyebrow arches questioningly.

Guess my demure innocent shtick wasn't so convincing.

"No, my Daddy's in jail and I ain't got no one else."

"Oh really now?" I can tell he's running through some images in his mind. Maybe an old prison photo yearbook, if they had something like that of course. "Well maybe I know'em. What's your Daddy look like, darlin'?"

I don't miss a beat, "You." My voice is smooth and sultry.

His loud raspy chuckle was like nails on an old chalkboard, "Yer trouble," he said, waggling his finger at me, "I ain't got time for no trouble girly." His hand moved back to the steering wheel and then the clutch.

"So ya just pulled over to laugh at me?" I placed my hand on the window opening, "Alls I'm askin' for is a ride."

The stranger runs his hand up against the scruff on his face. It's only then I noticed he was handicapped; that he was missing his other hand; just cut off, like some tree stump, resting there against the wheel doing absolutely nothing. Gawking was somewhat of a problem for me; always had been. Maggie used to have to tell me to stop starin' at kids in school because it made them uncomfortable. I couldn't help that I liked to be observant. People were interesting is all. Luckily he didn't notice my gawking.

He cocked his head to the side again, and I can't help but notice that he looks a bit nervous idling there in the middle of the road. I can tell by the way his eyes shift back and forth between my chest and then back up the road. Like he was trying to decide if he was going to play the part of a dirty old man and let me in or just leave me there in the middle of the road.

"Ya goin' to answer me or are ya just goin' to keep laughing?" I persist.

"Yer a right pain in the ass for a thirteen year old."

"I'm eighteen."

When his bottom lip curves up into a lascivious smile I wish I could retract my confession of how old I really was. Maybe lie and say sixteen or something. Cause the way he's looking at me now has my stomach twisting up like one of those big ol' pretzels they serve at the county fair during Springtime.

Suddenly without warning he's unhitching the lock on the passenger side door, the entire time he's got that shit eating grin on his face as if he's challenging me to get in the car.

Only on a very rare occasion have I ever turned down a challenge presented to me. This ain't about to be one of those times. I pulled open the truck door and slid myself in, readjusting my bag and Shawn's guitar so they could lean up against my legs.

"What'cha got in the bag, sweetheart?" And I use my leg to make sure the top of my bag remains closed; hiding the money I had stolen from home and the gun Ty had given me for my birthday.

"My bible and some bubble gum." I smirked, and then turn my attention back out the window; right back to that spot on the side of the road where the kitten had once been.

Dirt and dust.

Nothing more than that.

I can hear the rumble in his chest as he chuckles again. Then he peels off so fast that my body snaps back against the seat as the dirt in the road kicks up beneath the tires. Something inside my soul flies up and lurches forward, sending butterflies reeling round my heart for just a moment before they drop back down round my feet. The truck tires squeal, kicking up more dust and blinding us across the windshield; blinding me from where we were headed, or maybe just preventing me from looking back.

Cowboy Convict Merle stays quiet as he drives me through Loganville and then Snellville. It's been about 30 miles of silence. It's one thing for a girl to keep quiet for a few miles down the road, but by now I'm itching in my seat for us to talk about something; even if he did seem like he was twice my age and had the temper of a surly ol' bear. If I have to ride the rest of the way in serial killer silence I decided that I'll just jump out the truck in Atlanta; at least that seemed to be the direction we were heading in.

I sneak a peek of Merle out the corner of my eye, watching him as he bobs his head to some redneck country music that don't sound much like anything except for some twangy banjo and the blows of an old empty moonshine bottle. His prosthetic hand is hanging halfway out the window, dipping up and down in the wind as we zip by a stretch of Georgia forest.

"What'chu lookin' at sugar?" I can hear the pervy edge to his voice as if he has just caught me ogling his crotch or something to that nature.

Eyes snap back down the road but I can already feel the red blushing heat rising in my cheeks. It's the way his southern twang rolls out the word _sugar_ that has me feeling like I'm on a rollercoaster with no satisfying drop towards the bottom. The pressure of being alone in the truck with a grown man has my toes curling up into my boots, and for a couple of minutes I really wanna play the game. It's the first time anyone besides Ty has called me endearing sort of names pet names, but Ty used to see me wearing footed pajamas when I was in middle school. It just aint the same.

So I lean my body against the frame of the door and let the wind whip my hair up around my face a bit more. I ain't ever been one to flaunt myself around, hell, my Mamma would be furious if she saw me acting so damn trashy all of a sudden. Still, I wanted to prove to him that I wasn't just some kid running away from Daddy. Guess I also just wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't just running away from myself.

I wanted to make him squirm. Some part of me wanted to make Convict Merle fall head over heels in love with me like one of those sappy country songs; lyrics like, _'I found her on the side of the road and left my heart with her when she was gone again.' _

"Just wonderin' if you a guy like you has a wife back home waitin'." I shrug my shoulder, "can't imagine she'd be happy to know that ya picked up a woman on the side of the road."

"Aint got no wife." He gruffly replies, his tone falling peevish again.

I tilted my head back a bit, allowing the sun to dip over my forehead and into my eyes. I only bow my head down enough so I could still look at him, my gaze only slightly hooded over.

His hand clutches the wheel a bit tighter, and he presses a heavy foot against the accelerator. We pick up a speed that turns my hair into a wave of blond. It's the first time I've ever felt so alive while driving. Nothing can stop the throaty chuckle that bubbles over my lips.

"You got them Georgia Blues, girly."

He has my attention now, turning the tables on me and forcing me to bring my head back into the truck so I don't have to look at him through my wild hair.

"Georgia Blues?"

He smirks, "You ain't too bright for a country girl are ya?" He chuckles, and continues on before I have a chance to come back with something smart. "Yer eyes, baby girl. They'like them Georgia Blues..the flower. All blue and sultry looking when they in full bloom. "

My neck heats up again. "My eyes look like Georgia Blue flowers?"

"What's yer real name, girly?"

It's only then that I realize we've driven all this way and he hadn't even asked for my name.

"Beth," I reply lamely.

He takes his eyes off the road, if only for a second, and gazes hard into my eyes. "Dangerous Georgia Blues, Beth…dem the blue eyes of the devil I'm certain."

In some fucked up way I know it's as much of a compliment as it is an insult, but I can only focus on the negative, " I ain't no devil woman."

His eyes trail over my red halter top and he quirks his eyebrow as if to tell me that I've sure dressed the part. "Sure as hell seem like a devil girl to me," He turns back to the road, "standin' there in the middle of the crossroads with yer geetar; I'm surprised ya didn't ask me to sell my soul." He guffaws, laughing at his own joke while I tried to figure out what the hell he meant by it.

I'm losing this battle and I don't like it. For once I wanted to be in control of something and here he was making me feel all sorts of uncomfortable talking bout my Georgia Blues and my devilishness.

Well fine. If he wanted to play, well I'd play harder.

"You mind not lookin' over here for a minute?" I pulled my bag up to my lap and rested it there, "I've been walkin' in these clothes all mornin' and I'm itchin' to get out of them."

"Whatever kid," he yawns, and turns his head a bit to the left to block his eyes from my line of sight.

I pull out one of the flowery skirts I shoved into my bag that morning and begin unbuckling my jeans, loud enough so he'd know what I was about to be doing.

"So you ain't got a wife," I figured some idle chat would at least keep his mind focused on me, "you got anyone then?"

He shifts in his seat as I unzip my jeans, "No wife…no one…just me and my brother. All's I need in this shithole of a world anyway."

"You in love with your brother then or something?" I pull my jeans over my boots and quickly begin to shimmy the skirt up over my thighs.

"You ever fucking shut up?" He snaps back at me, and it's the first real glimpse of that hibernating bear I knew he had inside of him.

"Well if ya don't love him then what kinda girls do you like?"

"Quiet ones, ones that shut their mouths and don't ask so many fucking questions."

My mouth hangs open there for a moment, "You sayin' I talk too much?"

"I'm sayin' you've got a big fuckin' mouth."

He laughs to himself again, but finally steels a glance in my direction. I'm already wearing the flowery skirt so it don't matter too much.

"That don't match." He nods to my new attire.

"What do you mean it don't match?" I look down at my red halter top and my pink and white flowery skirt.

"You got them cowboy boots with that frilly skirt. Don't match none, unless yer a hooker or somethin'." His raucous laughter fills the car and practically cancels out the radio.

My anger flares up, "Oh so now I'm a hooker?"

The laughter subsides the slightest, but I can tell it's still lingering there on his lips like he's just dying to have another go at me.

"Look here Georgia Blue, alls I'm sayin' is that a girl lookin' like ya do in that getup is askin' for the wrong sort of attention."

I fold my arms over my chest and mumble under my breath, "Yeah well what do you know anyways?"

"What's that? Can't hear ya clearly."

Sometimes I wish I knew when to keep my mouth shut.

"Well what do you know anyways, you goddamn handicapped redneck."

He slams on the brakes so hard that my body doesn't have time to prepare for it. My face nearly collides with the dashboard; my hearts pounding out a steady tune against my ribs. I wonder if I have time to turn this crisis into a joke, maybe say something light hearted to soften the wound I've just ripped open. The silence only lasts a tick of a second, maybe shorter if I had a watch to gauge it by. The truck is thick with anger radiating between the both of us; a sick part of me wants to see him shed that fake skin suit and produce the bear beneath it.

"You listen to me you fucking little cunt, if you ever say anything like that to me again, even so much as look it, I'll throw you single handedly out this car and then run you over afterwards. You understand me?"

I glare back at him.

I could feel the weight of my gun against my foot. Pop. Pop. Pop. That's all it would take and I'd be out of here faster than Annie Oakley.

"Let me out." I whisper instead, surprised at how small and insecure my own voice sounded.

"There's the door," he turns his head and spits out the window.

Fingers latch around the strap of my bag and I grip the neck of the guitar with my other. I want to yell something right obnoxious back at him; really let him have it for making me feel like I was some ten cent piece o'shit this entire ride. But my brain is still reeling from almost smashing my face against the dash, and I have this funny feeling that if I do open my mouth again he's likely to pop me in my mouth with that big ol' fist of his.

I shove my shoulder into the passenger side door and slide my foot down to feel for the pavement road below. Guess it would have been smart for me to keep an eye on him cause he's suddenly leaning over and using his good hand to shove me out the truck completely. My legs aren't ready for that kind of hit and I stumble to the side and practically fall knees down into the dirt. He's already pulling the door closed before I can straighten myself out, tires screech and he's taking off down the road leaving me there with my skirt blowing in the wind round my thighs.

Ten years ago, just round the time of my tenth birthday, my Mamma decided to take me into town for a day of girly shopping and some ice cream. Now this was a real treat; getting ice cream from the corner store and buying clothes that didn't come from the thrift store on main street. Mamma wanted me to get one of those pretty Sunday school dresses with lace and frills; all those damn bells and whistles that the finer folks in town wore to church on Sunday mornings. She and Daddy had worked hard saving their extra money every week leading up to my birthday. On the ride to town Mamma even told me that she had sold some of her old jewelry so she could get me the one with the gold clasp round the waist. I was plum excited to be taking that early morning drive into town with Mamma that Saturday. We hummed along with Amy Grant on the radio, the windows of the truck rolled down to let in the sweet Georgia breeze. The wind flipped my pigtails round my face making me laugh along with the lyrics, anxiously waiting for us to get to town for our mother-daughter day out.

It was always Mamma's truck that brought along the trouble in our family. When the smoke started billowing from beneath the hood I could see the panic in my Mamma's face. Her hands jerked the wheel to the right and we pulled on over to the side of the road so she could pop the hood and get us back on our way to town.

"One minute, Bethy," she got out of the truck and circled to the front of the car, flicking the hood open and hovering there pretending like she really knew what she was looking at.

Mamma liked to play that part sometimes.

At eight years old it was something of a miracle that I was able to sit in that seat for more than ten minutes without throwing a tantrum; I just wanted to prove to Mamma that I could be a good girl and wait patiently for my ice cream and my new dress.

Mamma stood there against the side of the car with her arms folded over her stomach. When I think back about it I wonder if just maybe we could have locked up the car and strolled the rest of the way into town. The blue sedan that pulled up behind us had my Mamma smiling and tucking her blonde waves of hair behind her ears.

"Mornin'" her sweet honey voice flittered through the air towards the man in the cowboy hat and the blue sedan.

"Ya all alone out 'ere?" he drawls, even though I'm little I can turn around just enough to see him through the back windshield. He's got his fingers looped in his belt buckle as he saunters up to my Mamma.

"Just me and my baby girl," she gives a silent nod back towards the truck, "and this ol' thing decides to act up on us." She chuckles, her laughter sing song and so damn pretty that I'm sure, even only at eight, that he's smitten with her.

The stranger moseyed on towards the front of the car, casted me a sideways glance as he moved by the window, and then settled himself beneath the hood of the car.

"Looks like you've blown yer alternator." He speaks from behind the hood, and Mamma gives me a smile as to reassure me sitting there.

"Shoot," she leans her arm against the car door, "Would ya mind helpin' me and my girl get into town?"

And that was the thing about my Mamma that I guess I inherited. She was always so trusting due to the kindness of strangers. It's like she was this little slice of sunshine that couldn't be clouded over, all warm and radiant. Daddy used to say she could rush your senses like the warm morning Georgia air. But every now and then a breeze needed to be stilled. When the stranger came round the side of the car again he stopped right in front of Mamma and laughed.

"What are ya goin' ta give me for that lift?"

She looked back at me. I just grinned back at her with a toothless smile, pigtails bopping against the sides of my head.

"We would certainly love to take you for some pie and coffee, show our appreciation, right Beth?"

The stranger wasn't having it. At eight I didn't know what he wanted. Only years later when I went out on my first date with Jimmy did my Mamma warn me about riding in cars with boys.

"You want a ride…well I want a ride too." His hand reached out and slid along the side of her hip, settling there and making me feel nervous for some unknown reason.

My Mamma was a strong and proper lady. She politely slid his hand off of her hip and shook her head, "I'm sorry, but I ain't that sort of lady." Even though she leaned in closer I could still hear her. "I've got my daughter here, Mister."

He sucked his teeth, stood there, and then without warning slammed my Mamma into the side of the car. "Then I want yer money."

Ya ain't ever really sure who your gonna be asking for help when it comes down to it. I can still see my Mamma scared out her mind and grabbing that special money for my dress out her purse. The stranger had left us high and dry on the side of the road; broke in all senses. That special day out with Mamma ended with blisters on my feet and sunburn from walking into town.

I only think about this because as I'm walking down the dirt road, Convinct Merle miles away from where I am, I'm wondering if there's any man out there worth the trouble. All they seem to do is take ya for a spin round your head before they're leaving you stranded on the side of the road.

It's going to get dark before I make it into the next town. I've got to be at least another 15 miles from the town line and as the sun is starting to set behind the trees. Maybe I should have planned my escape from home a little better. My arms are covered up in goose bumps, forcing me to pull out the sweater in my bag and pull it on. I walk myself down beside an old bridge, sticking close to the incline so I could hide myself behind the security of some bushes there. I supposed now would be a good time, if any, to get some rest. Walking any further up the road in the middle of the pitch black may only leave me the option of sleeping in the trees, and I have never been a good climber.

Setting up my bag on the ground, and placing my guitar to the side, I sat down and let my head rest on the bulkiness of my clothes and my gun. Only the dim sparkle of the stars could be seen at this hour. Girls like me, well, we like the stars at night. There's something comforting about lying back and watching the sky light up above you. Like you've gone back in time to those moments you are a kid chasing fireflies with someone special. Cause chances are those same stars, the ones shining down on you right now, chances are they are the same stars that lit up your life back then.

I guess sometime between star-gazing and thinking about my childhood I fell asleep; cause I'm suddenly awakened by the sounds of something coming through the brush and pausing just above my head. My gut tells me to pull out my gun, but I'm so paralyzed with fear that I can't do anything but lay there in silence. A sound like a steady stream of water comes rushing by my head, and I lift myself up just enough to peer out of the brush I was hiding behind.

And there she was. Standing there with her skirt partially hiked up to her waist while she peed down the ditch incline. I'm not sure how she's doing it, half standing half squatting, but this lady is peeing with such accuracy that I'm fascinated for far too long before I jump up revealing that I've been hiding there playing peeping tom the whole time.

"Watch where your peeing lady!"

It's a good thing she's finished to a trickle cause she almost falls back, grabbing her chest, and cursing softly under her breath.

"Jesus kid! You nearly gave me a heart attack! You best not yell out like that to someone with a heart condition!" She wiggles her hips a bit, and then grabs a pair of underwear that she has cast to the side. Her hands yank them up and she's already turning to head back up the incline without so much as another word.

"I didn't yell," I was grabbing my things from the ground; quickly following her back up the incline. "Besides, you nearly peed on my head! Think I got a right to yell if I wanted to."

We come up to the road again and I can make out the outline of an old dark colored Cadillac. Now that we are out of the brush I can really make out this woman who has captivated my interest. She's pretty; pretty like those women who come on down from New York on business trips with their short trendy haircuts and city-like confidence. She's got on a plain black skirt that sways around her knees, her crisp white blouse tucked in so that it's revealing her slender form.

"You following me, kid?" She goes round her car and stops just by the driver's side door so she can turn and look at me. "Shouldn't a girl like you be in bed by now? It's late."

"I was in bed."

She pulls a cigarette out of a silver case and sticks it between her lips, "You some kind of runaway?"

I can't help but chuckle. It's the same thing Convict Merle had asked me earlier.

"No, not a runway," I lick my lower lip while she puffs on her cigarette. "Just lost my ride is all. Ended up walking till I couldn't walk anymore."

I've never seen anyone finish a cigarette so fast, but she's already snuffing it out with the toe of her shoe and opening up the car door.

"Sounds like a rough night, kid." She slips into the car and rolls down the passenger side window. "Sorry I almost peed on ya."

Funny thing how you meet some people. Some you meet by sticking your thumb out and wiggling your hips, others almost end up using you as a toilet. I lean forward and rest my arm on the window ledge before she can drive away.

"Look Miss, I know you don't know me, and I'm sure a pretty lady like you has tons of other things to be getting to, but I mean seeing as you almost peed on me…"

She laughs a sing song laugh that reminds me so much of my Mamma that I almost laugh along with her.

"What do you want kid?" She flashes a broad smile like she already knows what I'm going to be asking her.

"Could I get a ride?" I bite down on my lower lip and give my best puppy dog look.

She shakes her head and leans over to unlock the door, "You got a name kid?"

Before she can change her mind I open the door and start piling my things in, "Beth, my names Beth." I slam the door shut and look over at her with a worlds worth of sincerest smiles.

"Well Beth," she shifts the car into gear, adjusts the mirrors, and then pulls away from the side of the road; "I'm Carol. It's nice to make your acquaintance."

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I know I know, NO DARYL! **Don't kill me!** He was scheduled to be in this chapter however I decided to cut the chapter into two parts because it was turning into a 12,000 word chapter. So yes, **Daryl will be** in the next installment. Oh, and we have not seen the last of **Merle** that's for sure. Bonus points for the person who can figure out just how Beth will meet Daryl.

As always, any support via **Reviews or Messages** is always appreciated. So click that button and please leave some!


	3. Chapter 3

Whoop Whoop! You guys are AWESOME! That is why I worked extra hard to get this chapter up before tonights episode. So Daryl FINALLY makes his appearance in this chapter, and lets just say...well...it's an interesting first encounter. Don't forget to review!

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_Chapter 3 – Trailer Park Trash_

I ain't gonna lie; driving along the dark road with a lady like Carol may have just been the drug I had been fixin' for. It was nothin' like driving around with Convict Merle at all. In fact, there had been a nice easy way that Carol shifted that car into gear and started talking to me as if we had been friends for a good long while. People like that made it easy for me to relax around. I didn't have to pretend to be some big shot girl with all the street smarts and answers; didn't exactly have the need to flaunt myself around her either. For all that had gone south during my decision to leave this morning, it seemed like things were finally looking up; and I felt good about it. Even when I started bombarding Carol with all my usual questions she didn't seem to shut down or turn me away. Instead she took the time to smile and answer; though I couldn't help but notice that her fingers always twitched for one of her cigarettes.

"He isn't much of a saint," Carol exhaled a trio of smoke rings, "but he does good by me and baby girl."

Felt like Carol had been talking about her daughter and her love affair for the last two hours. My eyes had started drooping sometime after she mentioned that her ex-husband never caught on that she'd been banging the guy across town.

"He found out that my husband, well," she flicked the cigarette butt out the window, "found out that he had been takin' his hands pretty hard to me."

She said it so casually, like this was some sort of normal civilized conversation that you had with a complete stranger. Suddenly I was fully awake in that passenger seat and wondering how a woman like Carol could let some man thrash her around like that. She didn't seem like the sort that would let someone control her life. Guess ya can't always judge a book by its cover.

"Ya let your guy hit you like that?" I yawned, hoping that it didn't make me look like I was inconsiderate of her feelings. Truth was, my Daddy had knocked me round a couple o'times before when he was really on one of his benders.

Her shoulder went up in a half shrug, "Didn't really know anythin' else." She tilted her head to the side and cast me a long look, "Just figured a woman like me ain't got many choices round here," she paused, "plus Ed knocked me up after our first date so…" a light laugh slipped over her lips. "just sorta figured that this was the way things were supposed to be."

I had slipped out of my boots sometime after we stopped for some gas, my socked feet now pressed against Carol's dashboard. Leaning forward I rested my face against my knees and looked over at her. Now it wasn't like I was falling in love with her or nothin' but from this angle, with the moonlight lighting up the soft features in her face, well, she was a beautiful thing. Even if she had been dealing with a husband who had been knocking her around she gave off this vibe that had me itching to jump into her skin and walk around in her shoes for a while; see what it was like to be a woman on the move.

"Ya get rid of him then?" I asked, fingers wrapping around my knees while I still stared at her.

Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. Suddenly she was pulling her purse out from between her legs and fumbling through its contents.

"You ever have a boyfriend, Beth?" she asked; one hand on the wheel while the other continued to search for the mystery item.

There had been that one time back in my sophomore year of high school when I dated a well-known Senior boy. Zach had been captain of the football team and president of the debate club. Everyone knew who Zach was; everyone wanted to be Zach. So when he showed some interest in me, Beth Greene, the girl with bible in her bag and the alcoholic father, I had fallen head over heels dopey for his southern charm. And wasn't that the high school girls dream? To be whisked away by a cute guy who made ya feel like you were the only girl in the world that he'd ever want? At sixteen years old I was certain that this was it; Zach was the boy I was going to marry. This was what happiness really felt like.

It hadn't been too hard to convince my Daddy to let me go to Prom with Zach. Maggie had even taken the day off from her job at the bakery to come home and help me get ready for the big event. The peach colored dress I had saved up for complimented the soft golden curls of my hair. I felt like magic. Here I was walking into Prom feelin' like a million dollars; a guy like Zach on my arm whispering how beautiful I was. I never once thought that the car ride back to the farm would be such a disaster. I hadn't been paying too much attention as we drove away from the school, didn't notice when he made a sharp left away from my farm and out towards the woods. I was still floating somewhere up in the clouds; oblivious that he was driving me further and further into the Georgia back roads.

"I had one boyfriend once," my eyes shifted to her fumbling hand as it must have finally found the item she was looking for. A small orange and blue bottle; it sort of looked like one of those perfume samples ya get from the mall.

She placed the bottle between her knees, tucking some of her stuff back down into her purse. "Then ya know that it ain't always easy to just get rid of'em."

It didn't take me too much longer to realize that Zach had veered off the main road and we were driving somewhere through the woods. Course in my head I had imagined this picture perfect ending to the evening; Zach taking me to this big open field and telling me how much he loved me beneath the stars and the moon. I hated myself for being so goddamn jaded sometimes. When he parked the car beneath a strip of old willow trees I was still staring at him with that dopey grin on my face. I was a fucking idiot. Then it was all like I had pressed fast forward on my old VCR. He was puttin' his hands all over me, pushing himself on me while I was trying to push him off.

And I remember doing my best to grab for the car door, but even as I yanked it open he was pulling me back in by the peach material, ripping the silks making me scream out for someone to do something. And maybe it was because I was screaming murder and rape, maybe cause I had started crying, but for some reason he loosened his grip just enough for me to get out of the car. The next morning Deputy Shane had found me curled up on the side of the road. I still didn't remember how I made it there, but Deputy Shane drove me back into town and took down my statement; promised that he'd bring in Zach and that charges would be pressed against him. Daddy came to pick me up that morning from the police station. Putting on that act as if he was ok and he was only worried about getting me home and into bed.

But Daddy didn't work that way, and I knew that when we finally made it back to the house he'd have something to say to me.

I went to sleep with bruises on my arms that night; bruises from where my Daddy dragged me from the car and into the house. And I ain't sayin' that he was right for doing what he did, but I shouldn't have worn the dress with the revealin' neckline, shouldn't have let Zack rest his hand on my thigh…I may have been the victim, but I was asking for something like this to happen. Boys like Zach, well they were living life in the fast lane.

"The last boyfriend I had tried to – " My eyes went a bit wide, hoping that she'd get what I was implying so I didn't have to say it.

Carol started twisting the cap off the small bottle, "Christ kid, he tried to rape you or somethin'?" she snorted back a laugh when I shook my head yes, "Ed ain't ever have to force himself on me like that. Most of the time I was willin' to give it on up just to keep him quiet." Her hand shook a little as she brought the bottle up to her nose and took a quick snort, "He'd flop around on me for eight minutes and then pass out for the rest of the night." Her hand wiped frantically beneath her nose.

Didn't need her telling me what was in that bottle. I had been round Daddy's friends long enough to know that pretty soon Carol was going to be flying high.

"But ya got away, right?" I pulled my knees into my chest, "Ya don't have to deal with Ed no more just like I don't have to deal with Zach…" Cause all I wanted was for Carol to flash me those big pearly whites and tell me that she had made it out of there. I wanted to know that she had left all that bullshit behind and was now just cruising in her old Cadillac making her way back to her kid.

Her fingers twisted the cap back on the bottle before she held it out for me. I quickly shook my head no. I'd seen what stuff like that had done to my Daddy and his friends, and I didn't want to end up dead on the side of the road from some overdose.

Carol shrugged her shoulder and shoved the bottle back into her purse, "Don't have to deal with a lot of things now…" and I wasn't sure if she was talking about being high on those drugs or if she really had managed to get herself out of trouble. "Ed's dead." She added casually.

Curiosity killed the cat.

"You kill'em?"my voice was just higher than a whisper. Like if I said it softly it wouldn't be such an intrusion of a question.

The left blinker switched on signaling that we'd be getting off this side road and towards a town called Irondale. If we had gone right we'd be heading towards Atlanta; closer to Nashville. But for some reason I didn't want to jump out and leave Carol or this moment behind. Something about her made me feel like this was the way I was supposed to be going, and if it took me a little longer to get to Nashville, well so be it.

Carol reached over and ran her hand over my arm, "The guy who I had been messin' around with; the one that Ed didn't know about…" Should have been more than enough for me to figure out where this was all going. "He came to see me one afternoon while Ed was off at work. Night before Ed had knocked me round real bad like. Had this black eye that seemed to go on for days." Her thumb ran under nose again, "Didn't help that he was drunk. He has this real mean streak about when he's been drinkin'."

Sounded a lot like my Daddy.

"So he starts yellin' at me to pack up my shit and get some of Sophia's things together. And he's burnin' mad cause he's got this whole hero complex thing going, and I know he wants to keep me and my baby safe." She coughs, leans forward and grabs another cigarette, "You want one?" she quirks a brow and for some reason I feel the need to be blowing smoke rings alongside of her. She chuckles as I take it between my lips and practically choke on the first inhale.

"So…" she takes another long drag and then continues on without missing a beat, "I'm in the bedroom throwin' everything I got in a bag when I hear the front door open. Ed gets out early on Thursday's and I guess I hadn't been thinkin' too straight. I go running in with the duffle bag in my hand and Ed sees'em there…and he starts yellin' and shit. Calling me a slut and that he's goin' ta take Sophia from me. Starts throwing our shit around the room; and then the front door opens again and it's Sophia. And I swear to God Beth, it happens so quickly, but Ed's got his hands around Sophia's neck and he's practically choking the life out of her, and then there's this bang and Sophia is on the ground cryin' and Ed is bleedin' out this gaping hole in his chest."

My mouth, thick with the taste of the menthol cigarette, had suddenly gone quite dry.

"And Sophia's still screamin' cause now her Daddy's lyin' dead on the floor, and I'm stuck there on the floor scared out of my fuckin' mind."

It's like my gut is being squeezed to death as she drawls on about her dead husband. Her _murdered_ dead husband. Now Carol ain't the one who had pulled the trigger, but I've got this funny feelin' like I'm the Thelma to her Louise and we're on the run from the coppers who have just figured out we were the ones who had shot the bank teller. Now we were on the run, and I found my eyes checking the side view mirror for those flashing police lights.

" I ain't been home since that night." I felt the car slow down as she pulled over to the side of the road. "Just packed up the rest of our shit and took off."

My fingers twiddled with the fabric of my skirt, "And they ain't ever come lookin' for ya? Ain't no one wondered what happened to you and to your girl?"

For a second I thought that this may have been the moment where I had pressed too far. Her head fell back against the head rest and she turned the engine of the Cadillac off. Fingers pressed against the bridge of her nose, but she didn't kick me out of the car. Instead she just sort of smiled and lolled her head to the side so she could look me square in the face.

"That's where it all gets a little tricky," her arm slinked down against the side of the driver's seat and she clicked the little handle lowering the seat so she could lay flat. "my Pookie, well he called up his brother who has a knack for gettin' into trouble like that. Also has a knack for gettin' out of trouble like that." She sighed, "So he comes in and tells us to just leave so he can fix the mess…Pookie took me back to the place he shares with his brother and that was almost three years ago." She dragged her arm over her eyes, "I want to get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Ya should get some sleep too."

I lowered my own seat down, my eyes still lingering over Carol's face even if she was tryin' to get some sleep.

"Must be nice havin' someone like that look out for you and your daughter." Couldn't imagine anyone besides Maggie coming to my rescue like that; actually I wasn't even sure if Maggie would help me cover up something like that all. And that's what I found so damn intriguing about Carol. Not only did she look like a woman who had miles of knowledge and experience on her, but she also had men throwing themselves at her; men who wanted to protect her and keep her safe.

Her eyes were still closed, "Ain't all it's cracked up to be, Beth. I wanted that help, hell I needed that help, but now I gotta pay my own dues…"

"What do ya mean?" I yawned again, curling myself up in that passenger seat and wishing to god that I had brought a heavier sweater with me.

Carol snorted back a sigh and shook her head. "Don't you worry none about it. Just get some sleep. We got a lot to do in the morning and I'm goin' to need you all fresh faced and ready."

Sometimes you gotta just roll with the punches when it comes down to it. If you twist yourself up into a ball too tightly, force yourself to hide inside yourself, well, ya ain't ever going to feel like you've really been living. Ya take a ride with a convict or a murder… gotta unwind and just roll with it. No use crying and swearing and wishing you were back home in your pink frilly room with your stuffed animals. Open up your arms and let the world take hold of you. Something out there is bound to protect ya. Someone is bound to come along and make sure that you are safe and sound.

Someone was shoving my arm, pulling me from the dreamless night I had, but also reminding me that I spent the entire night sleeping in the passenger seat of a car. My neck was severely stiff, cracking and tightening as my eyes fluttered open and were harassed by the morning sun.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart." Carol was already putting on a fresh coat of lip gloss before taking a morning cigarette from the dashboard.

"How long did we sleep for?" I yawned and stretched my arms out in front of me.

Now that the sun was up I could see the open fields of yellow and green patches of grass we had stopped by. Out here, watching the sun drape across those fields, well it was like waking up in Georgia for the first time.

"We got a lot to do today, Beth." She wiped some smudged makeup between her eyes and turned the key.

While Carol started driving down the road again I took a moment to slip out of that frilly pink skirt and pull my jeans back on again. I contemplated switching from my red halter top to the plain old white tee shirt I had with me, but the sun was rising high and I could already feel the heat coming through the roof of the car and boiling my blood. Carol had a package of Twinkies in her bag, and she offered me one as we turned down the first paved road I had seen since beginning this little adventure.

"How are ya with being a distraction?" She was busy pulling that bottle out of her bag again and takes a short sniff of its contents. "You ever have to cover up for someone?"

Now I ain't entirely sure what she's getting at, so I just shrug my shoulders and keep looking off down the road. It must have been late enough in the morning that people were heading out to work; cars slipped passed us down the main street, most dressed up in some business casual attire with cups of coffee clutched in their hands.

"You listening to me, kid?" It's the first time she snaps at me; first time I could look at her and sense that she's anxious about something.

"Huh?" I whisk my eyes away from the traffic, and I'm met with a slap across the face.

"Ya gotta focus now, Beth. Okay? Your gonna listen to what I say and then when I'm done your goin' to repeat the whole thing back to me."

I'm still reeling from the sudden smack across my face that I just blink at her through the sting. My hand has slipped to my cheek, staying steady there while Carol blows out a long breath. And now I'm studying her in a whole new light; noticing that in the sunlight she ain't exactly as young as I had thought she was; thin lines of wrinkles creased her forehead and ended just around her eyes. Even her hair was peppered with flecks of gray that I hadn't noticed last night.

Had me thinkin' what kind of woman Carol really was behind all her alluring appeal.

"And ya ain't have a choice in the matter, Beth. Ya say no and I'm goin' to leave ya on the side of the road with no place to go." She was looking dead serious now; checking her rearview mirror every couple of seconds like we were on the run or something. Hell, maybe we were.

"I ain't goin' to bail on ya, Carol." And even though I was mostly saying it cause I was scared, it also had a lot to do with the fact that I had nowhere else to go.

She shot me a hard smile, her right hand brushing some strands of hair from her eyes, "Right, well, ya know when I said I ain't entirely free from what happened with Ed?" And I nodded silently, "I ain't proud of what I do now Beth, I ain't proud at all…but he swore he'd call the police on me and Pookie. Swore that if I didn't run packages for him that he'd turn me in to the cops and my Sophia would be taken away from me." She checked the mirror again, "And he's got a lot of pull underground."

Without looking away from the road she reached back behind my seat and pulled out a brown paper bag. "So I make runs for him when he needs me to." She sighed and tossed me the bag, "Thinks a clean looking woman like myself is an easy way to get his shit delivered."

If I just kept the bag closed I could have pretended that Carol was the perfect angelic savior that I imagined her to be. The weight of the bag was too tempting, urging me to just take one peek inside even though I had a suspicion that I already knew what was in there. Same shit she had in that little bottle at the bottom of her purse.

"I've got to make a drop at a place up the road. It's the last drop I gotta make before gettin' home to Sophia." Her foot eased off the gas pedal, "One of the regulars that buy this shit only meets there during the day time, but last time I was here the owner wouldn't stop asking goddamn questions. I have a feelin' that he suspects somethin' sketchy goin' on, so I need you to do a little distractin'."

"What ya want me to do?" Didn't sound like my voice urging her to spit out a plan but it was. Surprised even myself.

"The guy that owns this place is like six thousand years old, the real ol' grandpa type that gets all excited when pretty young girls show up." She shook her head, "You ever try and nail a Sugar Daddy?" Her eyes found mine and after as moment she burst into a cackle of laughter, "Ah right, yer one of those virginal types, forgot 'bout that."

I blushed red hard.

"So ya want me to flirt with him while you make your drug deal?" I toss the bag of cocaine into her lap. "You think little ol' virginal me has it in her?" sarcasm was a good friend of mine.

Carol hit the brakes hard, the bag of coke sliding between her legs and hitting the floor. "This ain't some goddamn game, Beth. I don't know what fucked up life your tryin' to run from, what game you think this is, but this is the only way I can keep myself from goin' to jail. This is the only way I get to keep my girl and stay outta trouble."

Seemed to me it was just another way of staying in trouble.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Look, ya just go into the place and walk right up to that counter. Place should be pretty empty so you sit yourself down and start talkin' bout how hot you are and how you'd love a glass of water. Make sure you stick your chest out, keep mentioning how you just wish ya could rip your clothes off to cool down."

My nose scrunches up when I think about trying to seduce some old man, but we are already pulling into a diner parking lot and Carol's cutting off the engine.

_Dale's Dine & Drive _

Looked just like one of those run down Route 66 diners I'd seen on television.

"Classy place," I mumble, finding my footing and slipping from the car. "How long do I gotta flirt with this guy before we go?" Fingers crossed she's say about a minute.

"Like five minutes or so." She's shoving the brown bag up under her shirt, "You go in and I'll count to sixty. Now ya are gonna have to listen for the bell on the front door. Then you start counting to 300. I'll make the quick drop, you give Ol' man Dale a fuckin' hard on and then after you get to 300 you just mosey on out and meet me on the corner. I'll keep the car running."

And to be honest it didn't sound like a terrible plan. Actually by the time I made it to the front door of the Diner I was feelin' pretty confident with myself. Turning over my shoulder I gave one more look at Carol, her hand jetted out and ushered me forward, giving me a partial thumbs up in the process.

The little jingle of the bell above the door signaled my entrance and put me on a grand display. There were only three people sitting at that counter, two were sipping coffee and reading the morning newspaper. The other was an elderly man, clothed in one of those ridiculous touristy Hawaiian shirts while he leaned back against the diner counter.

"Well good morning." I plastered on that smile that said I was there to be friendly, the one my Mamma used to say could melt a thousand hearts into puddles, "You mind sparing a tall glass of water?"

The old guy was already standing up and closing the distance between us, "Morning darlin'" He grinned back, "just one glass of water? Surely I can get ya somethin' more than that."

And just like that the man was placing his arm around my shoulder and shuffling me off towards the counter. Well Carol had been right. Didn't take him long to be eaten out of the palm of my hand and asking me a million questions about where I was from and where I was going. The tinkling of the bell let me know Carol had finally come in, but Dale was so caught up in how I was wiping a damp cloth across my forehead that he didn't even bother to look up. But I noticed.

Noticed Carol move off towards the bathroom and then one of the other guests at the counter follow her back there. Truth be told I was awfully worried bout her being back there by herself with some drug dealer. I wondered how many times she had made a drop like this, all the while Dale kept chirping in my ear about how great the fishing was in this town, and how he could offer me a job if I wanted one. The man came out of the bathroom first, moving to his cup of coffee and then tossing some money down on the counter.

"See ya, Dale." He mumbled, tipping his hat and moving back out the door.

"Martinez." Dale merely gave a short wave of his fingers and was right back to looking at me with that smile on his face that had me wishing I brought my gun in with me.

But I had a job to do, and so I leaned forward and placed my hand on Dale's arm. "You are awfully sweet," I cooed, trailing finger nails over his skin just as the second tinkle of the bell chimed.

And then I was backing up so quickly that I almost tripped over my own feet. "I ought to get goin'" I nodded towards the door, "gotta lot of drivin' to do." I stumbled again, grabbing on to the chair behind me for leverage.

"Well you be careful out there, darlin'." He adjusted his old fisherman's cap atop his head, "and if you change your mind bout stayin' round here you come see me for that job." He winked, and I shuffled back out the door so quickly that I wasn't even sure I had run off in the right direction until I saw Carol leaning there against the car door smoking another cigarette.

"What you waitin' for?" I hissed, reaching for the passenger side door and realizing it was locked. "Let's get out of here before he comes out lookin' for me or somethin'."

Carol chuckled, "Oh don't get your panties all twisted up none. He ain't goin' anywhere except back to his office to jerk himself clean."

The mental image of Dale masturbating cause of me had me gagging, and Carol nearly doubled over to her knees as she laughed. Had I been paying attention instead of laughing I may have noticed the way the beat up police car slowed down next to us.

"Long way from home, Carol."

Like a rocket Carol was shooting straight up and fixing her white shirt into her skirt. I merely leaned against the side of the car and studied the officer who had decided to show up at the most inconvenient time.

"Well hey there Officer Friendly," Carol cooed out, smoothing the back of her skirt and leaning against the driver's side door.

"Thought that was your car when I drove by earlier." He finally looked over at me, "You got another kid I don't know about?"

Carol merely shook her head and gestured me to join her round the other side of the car. Now the way this officer is looking at me I could tell he was suspecting I was kidnapped or something. He was checking me over like one of those undercover detectives that went out and found the kids on the back of the milk cartons. And boy was he good looking. Honestly, it was like he was ripped right out of one of those naughty paperback novels where the men were shirtless and all manly on the cover. There was something about the way he tipped up his Sheriff's hat that had my insides falling down to my feet.

"I'm Beth," I smiled, "Aunt Carol's just picking me up from school and takin' me back to her place for the summer." I'm only hoping that I'm still in acting mode and that this officer will take the bait.

He leans back against his seat, still looking skeptical, "You ain't ever told me that you had siblings, Carol."

She tenses up at my side, and suddenly I realize that I don't know how well she knows this officer.

But she's right on point, and shakes her head, "Oh Rick, you know me, I ain't got any brothers or sisters. This here is my friends kid, known her since she was a tiny little thing," she pinches my cheek, a little too hard might I add, and then shrugs her shoulders.

The conversation between Carol and Officer Rick goes on for another five minutes before he's finally tipping his hat again and wishing us both a good day. I'm glad he's gone as we slip back into the car and Carol puts it into gear again.

"What's up with you and that officer?" She's speeding down the road so fast that I can almost feel her own adrenaline pumping through my veins.

She lifts her shirt and pulls a big wad of cash from the hem of her shirt. "Rick?" She tosses the money in the back seat like it's no big deal, "Rick and I used to go to high school together." Her eyes flicker to the rearview mirror again. At this rate I'm willing to ask her if she just wants me to face the backseat and keep an eye out for her.

"Ever since Ed died Rick's been pushin' his nose in my goddamn business." She flicks on her blinker and turns right down an old dirt road, "I know he means well and all, but he keeps poking around the wrong people and he's goin' ta get himself killed too."

"How'd the exchange go?" As if I'm suddenly a part of this big old crime spree that's obviously much bigger than I could have ever imagined.

Carol jerks the car to the right sending dust up in the air, "Listen Beth, we gotta make a stop alright, and when we do…ya can't be talkin' bout me involving ya in the drop." She's serious now. I can tell by the way she is gripping the wheel of the car. "If anyone finds out that I involved ya, well, I don't want to think about what will happen."

You ever feel like a tornado spiraling out of control at about a million miles an hour? Seemed like ever since I turned eighteen I couldn't control a goddamn thing.

We drove in silence for the next hour, Carol only stopping to pee on the side of the road again. By the time we pulled into the desolate looking trailer park I felt like my bladder was about to explode. I guess I just wasn't ready for the whole road side piss break.

Carol was already out of the car running up to the broken down green and silver trailer. Now I had seen my share of trailer parks, had a real good friend who grew up dirt poor, but there was nothing like the one we were walking up to. It was obvious that whoever lived here hadn't bothered to maintain anything. The front door had a gaping hole across the screen, and the staircase was missing two planks of wood.

She was already letting herself inside before I had a chance to tell her I'd just wait in the car.

"Pookie?!" She yelled out as I entered behind her.

There was an overwhelming smell of stale beer and must that had me coughing and covering my nose for a second.

"Mommy!"

There was a flash of blonde hair in front of me, and Carol was dropping down to her knees to embrace the little girl. It was like looking at a mini-Carol minus the graying hair. If I hadn't been told I could have picked this kid out of a line up as Carol's daughter.

"Hey baby," she kissed Sophia over and over, "You miss me?"

"You were gone for a week!" She clung to her mother's neck, "You said you'd only be three days." The disappointment in Sophia's voice was evident.

She pulled Sophia up in her arms and carried her towards the couch, "I'm sorry honey, things got crazy and I had to fix'em all." She looked up at me finally and gestured for me to sit next to her. "Sophia, this is my friend Beth."

I reached my hand out and let Sophia shake it with her tiny hand, "Nice to meet you Sophia." She gave me a big grin, revealing the two missing front teeth in her mouth.

"Where's Pookie, Soph?" Carol had started braiding her daughters hair.

I figured this was at least my chance to go use the bathroom.

"Carol, can I use the bathroom?" I had started to press my thighs together before I pissed myself.

"Yeah sure," she didn't bother looking up, "second door down the hall."

The trailer was much bigger then I would have expected it to be. After leaving the living room area I passed through a small kitchen and into a hallway. On my right was door number one; it was cracked open just enough for me to catch a glimpse of small bedroom filled with toys. This must have been Sophia's room. I moved on, coming up to the second door on the right, directly across the hall from a door on the left. Well, this was a predicament.

I could only imagine that Carol had meant the second door on the right, and so I didn't think I needed to knock on the door to see if anyone was in there.

What I walked in on was something that had me wishing I was back home under my covers. I could feel the heat rise up into my face and then melt down somewhere between my thighs.

His muscled back twisted in such a way that defined every single contour of his body. The deep scars that skated across his skin were a mixture of raised reds and faded pinks; something that told me that he had recently obtained some of them. Eyes trailed further down south, stopping when I realized he was completely naked; and I couldn't stop myself from staring at the definition of his ass as he thrust himself into some red head that was sprawled out on the bed beneath him. He was fucking this girl right there in front of me, and I couldn't tear myself away from it.

Suddenly, as if finally recognizing my presence there, he looked over his shoulder and caught my eyes. Now I would have thought that at this moment he would have stopped what he was doing. Maybe yell at me to get the hell out of his room and close the door. Instead he continued to thrust into the girl harder, the whole time holding my gaze and making me feel like some pervert for watching. Didn't know why my feet wouldn't move.

He lifted the girls leg up and placed it over his shoulder, pounded away while still keeping his eyes on me. Those striking blue eyes.

I backed up and hit my ass with the doorknob, suddenly flustered and feeling like I was ready to throw up. I crossed the hall and threw the other door open; thankful that this was the bathroom.

I ain't ever done anything like that before; aint ever seen anything like that before. Splashing water on my face only reminded me that I had to pee and so I quickly finished up and then just sat there on the toilet.

This was enough.

I didn't leave my house to get into shit like this. Nashville was still top priority on my list; Carol needed to take me to the bus station or something.

When I opened the door and stepped forward I wasn't prepared for the bare chest I smacked into. I didn't have to lift my eyes to know who I had just ran into. The firm feeling of his chest against my face had me blushing furiously again; when had it gotten so difficult to breathe? At least now he was wearing a pair of sweatpants. Somehow I was still pretty sure I could see the outline of his length through the material. I quickly decided looking at his face was easier.

"You enjoy the show?" He asked, a gruff cockiness to his voice that reminded me of those boys in school that knew every girl wanted a piece of'em.

"Sor-I'm, I didn't, I was looking for –"

"Hey!" Carol breathlessly bounded into the hallway, chirped out an excited noise, and then jumped up to give the guy a kiss on his cheek, "Damn Pookie, I've been callin' for ya." She punched him lightly in the arm.

"Don't call me that." He muttered; eyes still focused on me there in front of him.

"Yeah whatever," she nodded at me and smiled, "see you've met Beth."

"We ain't runnin' a hotel, Carol," His features were tight, "Gotta get ready for work." Backing up towards the door he pointed at Carol. "Ya ain't leavin' tonight. That little girl in there has been cryin' all week for ya."

"Ya know I don't get to decide that," Carol sighed.

Pookie, or whoever he was, just shook his head, "Fuck'em…he's my brother and sometimes he's got ta listen to me too. Ya ain't goin' anywhere."

Carol crossed her hands over her chest and smiled, "And that's why you, Daryl Dixon, have always been one of the good ones."

He snorted, cast me one long serious look, before slipping back into his bedroom. I could only imagine him slipping back inside that naked girl. Could only imagine the way his body moved above her.

Didn't know this guy Daryl from a goddamn hole in the wall, but I sure as hell couldn't stop myself from imagining myself strapped down to that bed instead of that red head.

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Well now, isn't that the best first impression! lol, so now that they have met dont expect Daryl to be going anywhere. Beth has just been thrown into his world, and things are about to get crazy for them all. Please let me know what ya'll are thinking. **Leave a Review and some love! **

ENJOY TONIGHTS EPISODE ALL!


	4. Chapter 4

**Note**: I am so humbled by the response to this story. I love each and every one of you that takes the time to leave me reviews and feedback for it. The more I write it, the more I fall in love with this head strong and yet insecure Beth.

As always do not forget that this is an AU fic. Sometimes the characters may seem slightly off in their persona, but thats only to really tie the plot together. As it progresses we will see more of their true characterization come to life. For all of you who have mentioned that the story has the same tone as the film Hick, well excellent! I'm basing a lot of the initial plot on that film. It's an excellent film so I highly suggest you check it out if you havent seen it.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Walking Dead or the story Hick.

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_Chapter 4 – Monsters_

Standing there in the middle of the cramped hallway was suffocating me. Even when Carol backed away and headed towards the living room; even with Daryl behind closed doors, I felt warm and smothered. The tight knot in my belly almost had me turning tail and heading back into the bathroom for refuge. At least in there I could pretend that I was back at home. Back where Daddy would be sitting out on the front porch throwing back glasses of whiskey while the sun dipped out of sight. Course those were days when I had been a child; runnin' away and hiding had always been easy for me.

Subconsciously I placed my hand on the doorframe to Daryl's bedroom. Less than one day away from home and already I was fixin' to have myself ravaged by some dirty ol' redneck in a white trash trailer. A steady warmth crept over my cheeks and down along my arms just thinking about it. Sophia's piercing laugh tore me away from illicit thoughts. Christ. Here I was visualizin' myself sprawled out on that bed, all the while forgetting that Carol had so boldly stated that this was the guy she had been messin' around with.

"Shit…" I wipe my hand over my face, giving my cheek a little smack. This guy was just screwing around with some other girl while Carol strolled blindly into the other room; I felt obligated to tell her; obligated to let her know that I was more than thankful that she had given me a ride and taken me along with her. How could I keep it from her? I owed her that much.

Somehow my feet had carried me into the room while I mulled over the right way to break the news.

"Ya feelin' alright, Beth?" Carol's plopping back down onto the couch beside Sophia; her eyes raking over my face as I numbly feel for the chair opposite them.

I ain't ever been comfortable being a tattle tale. Back when I was a kid I'd let Maggie get away with loads of things she should have been getting in trouble for. All those times she'd sneak out to meet with the boy who lived on the next farm over, all the times she came home drunk from parties with her friends…even the times she'd go through my purse and steal my money so she could go gallivanting off somewhere without me. I never told no one. Not just cause she was my sister or cause ratting someone out made me feel dirty, but because I had seen just what would happen if I did tattle on her.

There was only one time in my life that I had told my Daddy what Maggie had been up to. It was round the same time that I had been wantin' to go on vacation with my one best friend and her family. They were takin' this road trip down to New Orleans; takin' a few weeks to get out of the Georgia back woods and into the big ol' city. Now I ain't ever been out of Georgia since I was younger; those times when we went camping up in the mountains when Mamma was alive. I wanted this more than I had ever wanted any crummy Christmas present or half assed birthday party. So I asked my Daddy if I could go; I hoped that he was sober enough to say yes but drunk enough not to care if I was gone for a couple of days.

"Who's gonna make my breakfast?" Was the first thing he asked me, looking up at me through half lidded drunken eyes.

"Come on, Daddy, please." It was the only time I begged for anythin' since my Mamma and Shawn left us.

"Ya ain't goin' ta New Orleans with anyone. Ya goin' ta stay here and do your job."

And normally I would have tucked my tail between my legs and hurried back to my room so I could have a good cry. Getting used to being disappointed was just another thing I had learned to deal with. But this time I couldn't stop myself from talkin' back to Daddy.

"It ain't fair!" I yelled, pounding my pathetic little fists against my thighs, "Maggie goes out all the time, and ya don't even care when she don't come home!"

Right then I knew I had gone too far; that I had broken an unspoken trust that I had with my sister.

Daddy took to knockin' Maggie around that night; he made sure she knew that if she didn't come home again that he'd do more than just leave her with bruises. Maggie didn't speak to me for two months after that. I had done everythin' I could to make it up to her, but she had shut me out something fierce.

So here I was in this conundrum, wonderin' if I should tell Carol what I saw or if I should just bite my tongue and pretend that I ain't seen a single thing.

Sophia was bouncing up and down on her Mamma's lap, her freshly done blonde braids flapping around her face. And I couldn't hurt this kid like that. Couldn't tell her that her Mamma's boyfriend was in the bedroom with some harlot gettin' it on.

"Just sore from travelin' in the car." I mustered up my usual smile and leaned back into the chair.

"Ya gonna stay for dinner, Mommy," Sophia crackled a grin; Carol leaning forward and pressed a kiss against the back of her head.

"I think I can do that, baby," although I couldn't help but notice her eyes shift to the front door; as if she was waiting for someone to come barreling through and snatch her up from this place.

A slam of a door had me tilting my head to the side, my face already blushin' as I waited for Daryl to come striding through the living room.

It was the red head.

And if that wasn't surprising enough, she was bucklin' the belt on her neatly pressed police uniform and pausing at the couch.

A cop.

She was a cop and I had just aided in some covert drug deal! I felt my body cower further into the seat. I suppose I was sittin' there lookin' awfully guilty, cause as she pulled a cigarette out of her breast pocket she snorted back a short laugh and looked over at Carol.

"Ain't seen ya round here for some time now, Carol." Her fingers fumbled around in her pocket until she pulled out one of those fancy zippo lighters. With a quick flick she lit the tip and took a drag; smoke flittered around her lips. "Who're you?"

I felt like a china doll on display. "I'm Beth," was all I could manage to spit out. I wondered if cops like her could smell the fear on girls like me.

"Where ya pick this one up, Carol?" Her index finger flicks some ashes on the floor and I'm all ready to bolt out the door before I get thrown in the slammer. "Stiff breeze gonna blow'er over." She chuckled at her own joke.

Carol kept her chin nuzzled against Sophia's head but turned her eyes just enough to settle on my own. Guess she could see how worried I was cause she started laughing too, "Like she was just sittin' there waitin' for me to find her, Tess." She grinned, "She's hitchin' up to Nashville to be a star…"

Another drag from her cigarette, followed by a snort, "You wanna be a Nashville star kid?" I merely nodded, "Well you're a long fuckin' way from crooning out country tunes, girlie." With another flick, red headed Tess was shooting her cigarette butt on the floor and then snuffing it out with the toe of her boot. "A'right, gotta head on into work before the shift change." She stretched her hands over her head and my eyes immediately fell upon her heaving chest.

My own boobs barely filled out my A cup bra.

"Hey Soph, why don't ya go get some of your nail polish and I'll paint your nails all pretty." The little blond nodded with excitement and quickly dashed out of the room. I could sense Carol was waiting for her to be out of ear shot before speaking again. Had me wonderin' exactly what sort of cop this Tess really was.

"So, um, things square then Tess?" Carol asked; shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"Yeah, we're still square; tell that asshole he's bought himself another three months thanks to his darlin' brother." And with that Tess was leaving out the front door and letting it slam behind her.

Now I ain't one for passing judgment on people I've just met, but I had this feelin' that whatever it was Tess was squaring on wasn't legit. Also couldn't believe Carol seemed ok with the fact that the woman who just strolled out the front door was just back there bangin' her boyfriend.

"Ya don't mind?" I whispered, cause my curiosity always got the best of me. I mean I was jealous when Maggie ate the last damn pancake. Couldn't imagine what it would be like if someone else was sleepin' with my man.

"Don't mind what?" Her brow quirked up.

My ears burned hot, "Ya know…" I cast a very quick look towards the bedrooms and then back to Carol; hoped she'd catch on to what I was getting at.

"Oh ya mean Daryl screwin' round with Tess?"

I guess she caught on.

The first time Maggie had ever told me 'bout the boy who felt her up I had nearly curled up into a ball and died. How the hell was I supposed to talk 'bout something like this was a woman I barely even knew? Guess she caught on how uncomfortable I was getting cause she slapped her knee with a laugh and shook her head.

"Daryl and I ain't like that anymore, Beth." Her fingers moved up into her hair, tugging at the short strands, "yeah we fooled around a couple o'times and sure he's the reason why Ed…well…ya know that whole story," yeah, and I didn't really want to hear her get into it again, "but after I moved over here we realized we ain't exactly a matchin' pair." Her shoulders shrugged.

"So ya'll ain't together?"

Carol sniffed back, "Nah, ain't been a thing with him for a long while now." And maybe for a split second somewhere behind her eyes I could see that she was sad about it; that maybe she wished it wasn't over and that she was the one walkin' out of his bedroom early in the morning.

"It ain't weird that he brings his new girlfriend round like that?" Didn't know if I was pushing that envelope again, but I chanced it.

"Oh Tess ain't Daryl's girl," again she almost sounded defensive about it, but still let out a brief laugh, "Tess works down at the station, and she's had a thing for Daryl since they were kids." She let out a sigh," So his brother made a deal with'er. Long as he can keep pushin' _his_ _business_ Daryl will sleep with her every couple months to keep her fat mouth shut."

Just when I thought I had heard it all.

"So he sleeps with her so she doesn't turn ya'll in for distributin'?" As soon as the sentence left my mouth I felt like I needed to run off and go to church for a confession.

Drugs. Sex. Bribery.

When the hell did I start staring in a Martin Scorsese film?

"Sometimes ya just don't have much of a choice."

And it was sad to think that someone like Carol really thought that she ain't got no choices in her life. What kind of way was that' to live; to think that ya had to live your life the way other people wanted you to live it?

Couldn't deny that I was right glad when Sophia came running back into the living room with a little bucket of nail polish. She bounced right up against Carol's side and started picking out a few bright colors. Just watchin' the two of them sitting there going through the polish and giggling 'bout silly things like paintin' their nails different colors reminded me of all those times I had spent with my own Mamma. The way I'd curl up against her side and watch her sew up patches in Daddy's old shirts; the way I'd tuck myself into her lap and she'd read me fairy tales and sing me soft lullabies. Didn't expect to get so caught up in the moment, but I felt the wetness on my cheeks and quickly started wipin' away the evidence. It was with good timing I had wiped them away too because just as Carol started painting Sophia's nails a toxic color neon pink, Daryl was striding into the living room and dropping down onto the couch on the other side of her.

The nail that Carol was painting jerked when he dropped down, and she cursed as the bottle of pink tipped from her knee and spilled out across her lap and down onto Sophia's knees.

"Shit." Carol quickly grabbed the bottle and flipped it right side up.

"Should be more careful," Daryl gruffly pointed out; leaned back against the couch and ran his hands up over his face; resting them behind his head. His eyes were pressed closed.

That was a good thing.

Cause I was staring at him so hard that I was sure I was burning holes right down the front of his green and black flannel shirt. I want to stop. I want to get ahold of myself and shake free from all this bullshit I've stepped in. He's all dirt and grime, sweaty from what I reckon was a good roll in the sack with red headed Tess, and I'm smitten like it's the first time I've ever been 'round a true country redneck before.

He ain't even that good lookin' when I study his face. His facial hair is haphazardly shaved 'round his chin, a small mole right above his lip, and Christ he looked damn tired…dark circles just spreadin' out under his eyes. But maybe it was that rough edge that had me starin' at him anyway cause I got this twisted butterfly tingly feelin' in my belly that was shootin' down to my toes.

He's just got that look that says he's the sort of guy who could throw down in a fist fight, change a tire in the dark and then go home to spoon feed his bed ridden grandma, all at once.

"Let's go change these clothes Soph," Carol's pulling Sophia up into her arms and placing the bucket of nail polish on the floor.

"You goin' to work now Uncle Daryl?" Her voice is so tiny but she drags him out of his trance and he's opening his eyes again.

"Soon baby girl, soon." He looks at Carol, his jaw tightening, "but yer Mamma's goin' to be here all night so ya don't have to worry none."

Sophia's wrapping her arms around Carol's neck and smilin' so big that I can't help but smile too. Then they're both moving back towards Sophia's bedroom and I'm sitting there in the chair across from Daryl. The way the sun is coming through the trailer window falls in streaks across his face when he finally looks over at me.

He's biting the corner of his thumb and looking over at me through fallen strands of dark brown hair. Beneath the shagginess I can see those deep blue eyes tracing over my face; sizing me up.

I want to look everywhere else but at his face, but he's already caught me starin' and I don't want to look anymore foolish than I already do.

"Sorry 'bout burstin' in on you earlier." I try my best not to sound like a child; to try and look like I'm bold enough to confront the situation.

" S'nothin'." And he doesn't at all look ashamed or embarrassed or nothin'. I wonder if I'll ever have the nerve to be so bold and carry myself with such confidence.

I drum my fingers on my thigh, trying desperately to beat out a rhythm and negate the awkward silence that has developed between us.

"How old are ya?" he's still biting at his thumb, but his eyes have narrowed the slightest; his body is also leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. It's like he's challenging me or somethin' and I find I'm suddenly feelin' awfully defensive.

"Ain't none of your business," the truth is I'm thinking that tellin' him how old I really am might have him kickin' me to the curb.

But maybe he'll just see right through me.

"Aw fuck," he shakes his head, "you ain't one of those kids on a milk carton, are ya? I ain't goin' to step out this front door and find the cops waitin' to haul me off for kidnapping?"

"I ain't five," I snap at him, "besides, it ain't like ya have to worry much 'bout the cops comin' for _you_. You'd just screw'em till their quiet." I have these secret daydreams that I'm much tougher then I really am; so by throwin' Tess in his face I feel almost too powerful for a moment.

He's standing up from the couch and coming to hover over me before I have a moment to even relish in my quip. His hands, large and scarred, slam down on the arms of my chair so that he's got me locked in. I ain't goin' no where. He's glaring down at me. Silent. Brooding. Maybe plotting the next thing to say to insult me. Either that or he's going to hit me. Wouldn't be the first hand across my face.

"I don't know what bullshit Carol told ya, but this ain't some joy ride kid." His forehead's practically touching mine, but I'm drowning in those blue eyes; any fear I'm feelin' is sparkin' a fire inside of me. I know I'm obviously gasping for air now. I can feel my chest heaving rapidly while wild images of this man, naked images, flash like fireworks in my head.

My voice cracks; eyes lowering down to my knees, "I ain't here for no joyride." There's a silence between us, "I was just lookin' for a way to Nashville."

"What's your name again?"

I try to look up at him but end up pausing at his mouth.

"Beth."

He repeats my name. I watch his mouth; his tongue. I'm hypnotized by the way somethin' as simple as my name rolls out his mouth.

I suddenly feel dirty.

" 'm Daryl," he leans forward just a touch more before pushin' himself off the arms of the chair. "but guess you already knew that."

"Guess so," my voice is breathless; like I've been sucker punched in the stomach.

He doesn't respond to me for a minute; he's just pacing around the living room and pausing at the window every now and then. It's that same silence that I've been feelin' in the car with Merle

"Look I'm sorry if I made ya mad. I didn't mean to." I don't know why I want to apologize so badly, but I do, "I just wanted to impress everyone or somethin'." There is this thing about Daryl that reminds me of my Daddy. A little broken, a little abrasive, but somewhere underneath it all a guy who ain't really being true to himself. Like he's got to put up this big ol' hard shell because at any moment he might just break.

"Where did she pick you up?" He asks me; his eyes still fixed on the window. "How long ya been ridin' with her?"

I take this new set of questions as an acceptance of my apologies even if he doesn't acknowledge them.

My tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth, "Couple of towns back…found me on the side of the road yesterday." I neglect to tell him just how she stumbled upon me. No need to be bringing up the fact that she nearly pissed on my head.

His shoulders tense the slightest, but he merely grunts out a noise before stepping back from the window and heading to the kitchen counter adjacent to the living room. He's reachin' for a large bottle of something dark. Whiskey I'd bet. Couldn't read the bottle from where I was sitting, but my Daddy had drank enough of that poison for me to know.

Uncapping the bottle, he's watching me again; even watches me while he takes a large swig from the bottle and places it back on the counter.

"You two stop anywhere before ya get here?"

We both stare at each other; I know he knows the truth to that question even if he's asked it. He's got to know that I was with her when she made her exchange this morning, and even if I will myself to lie about it anyway I can't do it.

"Stopped at Dale's with her for a minute." It's out there now and I can't take it back. For what it's worth he doesn't look pissed that I was there for the exchange. He doesn't even bother to ask if I knew why we had stopped there.

Guys like Daryl, guys in this sort of business; well they knew stuff without people even telling them the whole truth.

Suddenly he's ripping his wallet out of his jean pocket and sauntering back over to me. I'm still too scared to uncurl myself from the safety of the worn out recliner. His fingers are sifting through a wad of cash until he gathers up some unknown amount.

"Get out of here, kid." He tosses the money into my lap like I'm some cheap hooker he's just spent the night with.

My fingers move to gather the bills before my brain has time to process anything, "What the hell is this for?"

Daryl just shakes his head and grabs my free hand; he's pulling me up from the chair and tearing me away from my comfort zone. "Just take the money and jump on the next bus to Nashville. Ya don't belong here."

He's shovin' me towards the front door.

"But I don't-"

"Look this ain't up for a discussion. Ya take that money and go."

"What about Carol?" A normal girl would have used this opportunity to run off without asking anymore questions. This was my chance to just get back on the road towards the dream that had me leaving in the first place.

I wasn't normal I guess. Just couldn't imagine disappearing without thanking Carol for takin' me this far on my journey.

"I'll tell her ya left," he grunted, "Look kid, Carol ain't the kind of woman ya think she is anyway. She's just as fucked up as the rest of us. Ya don't belong here."

Where did I belong? Hadn't felt like I belonged anywhere in quite some time.

"My stuff…" he's still shovin' me towards the door, "I need to get my stuff from her car first."

This time I don't have to lie or butter him up for him to see I was telling the truth. He looks around the living room and sees nothin' that I could have brought with me. His arms fold across his chest, muscles turning and twisting beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Just get yer stuff and go, Beth. Pretend like ya ain't ever come here at all."

That was his way of sayin' goodbye. Well so long suckers.

See ya later.

I ain't down for half this shit anymore anyway.

My hand jams the wad of cash into my back pocket and I stumble quickly out the front door and down the old steps. Carol's car doors were unlocked, even with all my shit in there I couldn't imagine anyone looting it. Two things to grab and I'd be back on track to Nashville. My bag was the first thing I took, wrapping it around my shoulders and making sure it was still clasped shut. Shawn's guitar was still shoved partially under the front seat so I yanked it back; stumbling as it quickly broke free from beneath the seat. My boots caught a wayward branch, causing me to lose my balance and forcing me down hard on my ass.

A harsh familiar chuckle from behind me froze the blood in my veins.

"Well well well, if it ain't little ol' Georgia Blue herself."

Sometimes really late at night I think about the nightmares that had kept me up as a kid. Daddy used to chase away the bad things under my bed and yell at the scary things in my closet. The older I got, the less he had to do it.

"Monsters under the bed aren't real, Bethy" He'd say.

Monsters were just a foolish kid's nightmare.

But monsters did exist.

They just didn't hide in closets or under beds anymore.

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Well now, Beth is about to get herself into some trouble. Looks like good ol' Merle is back, and Daryl isn't going to be too happy with the way he treats Beth. Their relationship will begin to blossom in the up coming chapters. I'd love to hear your feedback and know how you feel about the story, characters, relationships...hell, I love feedback on ANYTHING!

**So be a dear and click that review button. It totally makes my day so much brighter.**


	5. Chapter 5

Hello lovely ladies and gents! I'm so so so so so EXCITED to get this chapter up. It's the chapter that really had me writing this story in the first place. It's a two part chapter so yes chapter 6 will be the big continuation of it. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think! Always appreciate your kind words!

**Warning**: This chapter has the mention of graphic images and situations.

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_Chapter 5 – Horton's Bar_

My ass was fused to the spot on the ground as I looked up into Merle's face. This ain't happening right now. No, this has got to be some sick joke that my mind is playin' on me right now; my minds twisted way of gettin' back at me for doin' all these stupid things that ain't normally in my character. I got this fish out of water look on my face, gasping for air and tryin' to figure out my best escape route, but he's closing the short distance between us and holding his hand out for me. If he thinks I'm foolish enough to let him help me up he's got another thing coming. I push his hand out of my face and get myself up off the ground on my own.

"Are you stalkin' me?" I ask, brushing off the dirt I can only assume had caked onto my bottom.

"Stalkin' ya?" He snorts back somethin' that sounds like a laugh, but he's staring me down something fierce. "Aw come on now, Georgia Blue, ya ain't got to be like that."

My fingers curl around the neck of my guitar, "I ain't bein' like anythin'." Except that my eyes are moving all around the trailer park for a quick escape plan.

"Yer more skittish then a kitten, baby doll. Ain't a good look for ya." He licks his lower lip, "Gotcha lookin' all vulnerable and shit." He lifts his prosthetic arm, the hand replaced by some knife lookin' tip, and scratches it over his beard.

"Just leave me alone." I swipe down for my bag and strap it up over my shoulder. "I ain't here to bother you."

Merle guffaws loudly, "Like hell ya ain't," he's slapping his hand back over his neck, "Sorry I shoved ya out my truck," he snorts.

"Liar!" Cause I know he don't give a damn 'bout me.

He makes this tsking sound with his mouth, "See I can't let ya do that right yet, darlin'. Not with ya comin' out of _my_ trailer and diggin' round in _my_ car."

"Your car?" My brows furrow, "ya ain't nothin' more than a big ol' liar, Merle. I know the lady who owns this car, and it ain't yours."

He chortles again, "She tell ya that she own it?" His hand slaps down over his stomach, "She's a piece o'work ain't she. Tellin' people she owns things that she don't." His hand slides into his pocket and he pulls out the wad of cash that Carol had thrown in the back seat earlier. "She also tell ya she own this?"

He waved the cash out in front of his face. Suddenly it all seemed to click together and I realized that the mystery guy Carol was workin' for wasn't so much a mystery after all. Daryl's brother…Carol's boss…

"Ya like some sorta big time drug dealer then?" I blurt out, the words falling from my lips before I even have a chance to reel them back in.

It's as fast as a snap of lightning, and Merle is pushing me up against the trailer adjacent to his own. He's got his hand wrapped around my collarbone, fingernails digging into my skin and forcing out a yelp of pain.

"Let me go!" I try to push forward with one hand, my other still wrapped around my guitar. For a second I consider smashing the guitar into Merle's side and running away, but I don't have the nerve to hit him let alone the boldness to break the one last thing I have that reminds me of my brother. So I yell out instead. "Stop!"

He pushes me harder against the side of the trailer, "What the fuck do ya know 'bout my business, sweet cheeks? What's dear ol' Carol been sayin' to ya?" My collarbone is hurting bad, like if he squeezes any harder and my bones are going to be snappin' in two.

"Don't know nothin'!" My voice is frantic, "Really, I don't!"

He smacks the wad of cash across my face, "Ya come out here ta steal my money then? Gonna slip into the back seat of _my_ car and steal _my_ fuckin' money?"

I guess I'm cryin' cause my cheeks are wet and my vision's all blurry, "I wasn't goin' to take your stupid money!" Cause I really wasn't! In fact I had all but forgotten that that stupid cash was still sittin' in the back seat. "I just wanted my guitar and my bag so I can leave! I just wanna go!"

"Go off and tell the fuckin' cops?" His face is so close to mine that I can almost identify the stale whiskey he's been drinking. My stomach turns over.

"I ain't goin' to the cops, Merle!" I struggle in his grasp. "Please, I just wanna go."

He presses his nose against my own, "What'dya fuckin' know?"

And I think about all the times my Daddy used to tell me that honesty was the best sort of policy. But you can't fool me. I know tellin' Merle that I know exactly what sort of things he's into is goin' to get me a nice pair of those cement bricks on my feet and a one way ticket to the bottom of some swamp. Now I ain't much for bein' alligator food so I just continue to shake my head back and forth.

"I promise ya, I don't know nothin'! Carol just found me on the side of the road after ya left me there. She's just gave me a ride. That's all."

" 's a bunch of bullshit, sweetheart. Wanna know how I know it's bullshit," he's got his pointy prosthetic hand running up and down the side of my hip, "cause Officer Tess was just so curious 'bout ya when she called me not five minutes ago. Wanted to know all 'bout Carol's little blondie country star and if ya were smart enough to keep yer mouth shut."

All your life you are gonna have people houndin' ya for the truth 'bout things; tryin; to get ya to incriminate yourself when all ya really should be doing is keeping your mouth shut. So ya gotta learn how to read people; how to figure out their angle before any shit really hits the proverbial fan. Merle's angle, well I ain't entirely sure but I'm guessin' he wants me to just confess all my sins to him so he can either use it to his advantage or beat the shit out o'me. Or both. At this rate I ain't certain of my face reading skills so I just continue to shake my head.

"I ain't goin' to say anythin', really. I ain't."

He jabs his prosthetic into my hip a bit more, this time I can feel it nick the skin. "Maybe if I cut out yer pretty little tongue I can be more comfortable with lettin' ya leave."

And I'm waiting for him to slice his creepy prosthetic hand into my skin and spill my guts clear across the gravel, but Merle's suddenly getting yanked away from me. I'm hoping that maybe the cops have figured him out and were haulin' him off to prison for the rest of his life, but instead I see his brother Daryl standing there, scowling down at Merle who had fallen back against the car.

"What the fucks yer problem, Merle?" He spits, "she's a fuckin' kid." His hand indicates in my direction.

"I ain't no kid."

"She ain't no kid."

We say simultaneously.

"I don't give a shit how ol'ya are, girl." He's got this murderous look in his eyes, but for some reason I ain't scared as he looks at me.

His eyes ain't for me though. Daryl's looking over Merle and shakin' his head, his hands coming up and raking through his long dark shaggy hair. Don't know when he started pacing, but he's moving back and forth in front of me like a tennis ball and I'm starting to feel nauseous.

And then they're yellin' at each other right there in the middle of the front yard.

"Why the hell you roughin' her up like that?" Daryl's back at my side and taking me by the arm. I all but expected his grip to firm, but despite his calloused fingers over my skin he was uncharacteristically gentle. He brings me forward and runs his hands over my arm and then down to my hip where Merle had scratched my skin.

"She's a lyin' bitch, that's why." Merle brings his finger up to the side of his nose and blows snot towards the ground.

Daryl's kneeling down in front of me now, his hands coming up and pulling down the side of my jeans just enough for him get a good look at the cut. It wasn't bleeding too badly but it ain't the bleedin' I'm thinking about as he kneels there in front of me.

There's something wild going on inside of me that makes me want to reach down and wrap my fingers up in his unkempt hair. Something that makes me want him to press his face forward and trail kisses along my belly. I keep staring off down the road in front of me pretending that these awkward feelings aren't there, but his face is so close to my skin that I can feel the warmth of his breath. It shoots something violent into my chest and drips down into the pits of my belly.

"Ya fuckin' sliced her up ya goddamn redneck," he's pushing up on his knees and draggin' me back towards the trailer door.

"Where the hell you bringing her?" Merle's callin' after us, "You ain't bringin' her in the house." Daryl keeps pulling me along. "You ain't takin' her inside."

But Daryl ain't listening and Merle's just following behind us as we start climbing up those rickety ol' steps again.

"I'm cleanin' her up, jackass."

Merle grumbles something behind us and then laughs, "Why, ya got a hard on fer this one or somethin' Darylina?"

As if my mind wasn't already racing with a million lascivious thoughts, I can feel my neck gettin' all red and hot. He's got me by the elbow, and I nearly collide with his side as he turns around and glares down at his brother.

"Fuck you," he snarls, "come on Beth."

"Oh ho," Merle's practically rubbing up against my back, "Ya know her name and everythin' do ya?"

Daryl's barging through the front door dragging me behind him. Merle is somewhere on my heels, and as we all come charging through Carol is on her feet and ushering Sophia back to her bedroom. Once the little blonde head was behind closed doors Carol comes up between us all and folds her hands across her chest.

"What ya'll hollerin' about?" She looks down at me, "I thought ya left, Beth."

Something in me is telling me to speak up and defend myself against all three of them, hell I've got my gun still sittin' there tight in my bag. Just one flick of my wrist and I could be holding all three of'em up and skippin' out of here. They'd never expect it.

"Darylina's got thang for little Miss Georgia Blue here," he's rolling his tongue over his lips and makin' me feel like a goddamn fool.

"I ain't got nothin'" Daryl's still holding on to my elbow and as he declares he doesn't give a shit about me he realizes are skin is touching. He's dropping his grip and gesturing towards the small gash on my hip. "Asshole here decided to go all Edward Scissorhands, and I got to fuckin' get ta work. I ain't got time for this shit."

"You stabbed her?" Carol's hunching over in front of me and looking over the spot.

"I'm fine," I nudge her hand away from me; don't need their pity.

"I didn't stab'er!" Merle shouts, "Just wanted ta fuckin' know what the hell ya told her 'bout us!" He's waving his knife in Carol's face.

She goes strikingly pale, "I didn't tell her anythin'!" Her eyes are blazing into my own now.

"Don't try and play innocent with me, sugar tits, I know she knows somethin'." He starts moving back and forth around the small living room, such similar movements to Daryl's when he had been pacing out front earlier. "What've ya seen, girl?"

There is an awkward moment where Daryl looks over at me and smirks cause he knows exactly what I've seen. Lord, I wish I could have looked down from the heavens and seen what my own damn face looked like. I knew it had to be priceless. Daryl's got this shit eating grin going on and even when Carol asks him what he's smirking about he keeps on staring right on at me. I keep lookin' right on back, not backing down from his gaze.

"I ain't seen shit," I say through grit teeth this time, wondering if maybe Merle will finally just shut his mouth and leave me alone.

Carol's got other plans; however, she's sighing and moving back to the couch so I assume she can get comfortable.

"She doesn't know any details Merle," she's pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, "just had her cover me when I went into Dale's this morning."

Merle kicks over the coffee table in one shot, "you fuckin' let Dale see her?" He's cursing a million words a minute, screaming wildly in Carol's face before she's going right back at him.

"Come on…" Daryl's voice hums in my ear, and he's tugging me back towards the small hallway again.

I turn around to look over my shoulder, Carol's face is all red and blotchy and Merle is pointing in my direction as Daryl pulls me into the bathroom. He shuts the door behind us and clicks the lock into place. My hearts beating brutally cause the size of his bathrooms got me practically pressed up against his body. Legs and arms bump into each other and he's grunting a bit until he's finally kicking the toilet seat down and taking a seat.

"Stand here…" He's pulling me over in front of him and then reaches into the bin to his left. "Goin' to patch ya up."

It's pretty dark inside this bathroom, even with the light on over the dirty mirror, but even in the dim I can see that he's uncomfortable taking the peroxide and wiping the cloth over my skin. His hands ain't shakin' or anything, but his mouth is pulled back in this tight line causing his eyebrows to narrow down. His swipes are gentle as he cleans up the small scratch on my side, honestly I didn't really think it was that necessary.

"Ya don't have to do this ya know." My eyes are staring into the top of his head. "He didn't really cut me too deep."

" 'S a rusted piece o'shit that thing." He drawls, " likely ta get infected if ya don't take care of it." He's droppin' the cloth into the sink and unwrapping a bandage. "Put yer arms up."

I shoot'em up in the air so fast it's like I'm bein' held at gunpoint.

He notices and laughs gruffly as he smoothed the bandage over my skin. " I ain't goin' ta shoot ya, Beth."

Must have looked pretty stupid standing there with my arms up in the air and my shirt pulled up the slightest; I downright felt like a child getting patched up like my Mamma used to do for me when I'd come home with scrapes and cuts. He pulls my shirt back down and we stand there in silence for a moment or two before I find the nerve to speak up again. I'm digging into my back pocket and pulling out the cash he had given me earlier.

"Here," handing it over it to him.

His jaw clenches, "Naw, keep it. Goin' ta still get ya to the bus station one way or another."

"Thanks for fixin' me up," I smile.

" 'S nothin'." Is all I get from him in return.

The screaming outside the door has disappeared and Daryl's already rising from his spot on the toilet and reaching around me to open the door. I got the money dangling in my hand and it takes a lot of effort for me not to just shove it in the pocket of his jeans. Instead I let him slip around me again and lead me back out into the hallway.

They are just sitting on the couch now, Carol and Merle, talkin' in hushed whispers about something while Sophia sits there on the floor playing with some worn out ol' rag doll. When we make a stand in the kitchen area Carol's lookin' me over with a sad expression that's got my gut twisting up in knots. I don't like the way she's lookin' at me, and I don't like that Merle's finishing a call on his cellphone with a look on his face that I still can't read. But he's up to no good. I can at least see that much.

"Mommy, look at Sadie's hair. I made it all pretty." Sophia waves her doll up in the air, and Carol just smiles.

"Sure did, baby. She's beautiful."

And Sophia goes right back to playin' never questioning her mother why she's been yellin' with Merle or why there's got to be all these secrets floating around her. See, when you're a kid you grow up thinkin' that your parents are not really people. No, they are gods and goddesses that can't do no wrong in your eyes no matter what kind of dark shit they got going on underneath all those layers. I used to think my Daddy was the greatest man in all the world, never thought of him as some old washed out drunk who'd disappear when I needed him the most. And Sophia wouldn't know about her Momma or the stuff she did for a living until she got older and witnessed it all herself. And even then she may be too far into the thick of it to get away from this sort of life.

And maybe she'd be ok with it.

Cause you don't ever want to think of your parents as the bad guys in the world.

"Listen here, baby brother," Merle's crossing over towards us, speaking to Daryl, and his eyes on me. "Yer goin' to take Georgia Blue here into work with ya. Goin' to work yer shift and then take drive her to the bus station."

"When the fuck did I become everyone's goddamn babysitter?" Daryl snorts.

"I can get to the bus station myself, Merle. Daryl doesn't need me to tag along with him." Although the pang in my chest had me wondering what it would be like to say goodbye to someone like Daryl.

Merle's up in Daryl's face now, "I ain't goin' ta run the risk of this little shit squealin' on us. Yer goin' to make sure she gets on that bus and yer goin' to do it after ya get done with work. Understand me?"

If this was a game of who had the upper hand I could easily tell that it was Merle. Even if Daryl was younger and stronger there was submissiveness about him as his brother stared him down. I wondered how many times Merle made Daryl do things he didn't want to do. Besides screwing around with the lady officer I can only assume that when Merle wanted Daryl to do somethin' he did it. There was no questioning about it.

"Fine." Daryl's pushing by him and picking my stuff up off the ground.

Now it's just me and Merle in the kitchen and he's glaring at me with those big ol' wolfish eyes that scared the shit out of me back in the truck.

"And yer goin' ta keep that pretty lil ol' mouth of yers shut when ya get on out of here, ain't ya Georgia?"

Mutely I nod cause I'm tryin' to keep myself from pissing my pants right there in front of everyone.

"Come on Beth." Daryl's already at the door with my things and I'm movin' faster than I ever have in my entire life. I don't even say goodbye to Carol. I just give her a wave and follow Daryl out of the trailer and into his truck.

We don't look at each other as I slide into Merle's truck. He just hands me my things and starts the engine so we can get out of here. I ain't ever been so glad to be leavin'. He's got the truck in gear and swinging it around in the dirt road way before peeling out and leavin' all that mess behind us. And I'm glad for his quietness cause right now all I want to do is stare off down the road and count the minutes until I'm on that bus and away from all this shit.

We're pulling into town not nearly twenty minutes later, Daryl finding a spot to park his truck and then yanking the keys from the ignition.

"I got a three hour shift at the bar over there," he's pointing across the street at a place called _Horton's. _"Ya can either wait here in the truck or come in." He doesn't wait for me to decide as he opens the driver's side door and slides out.

Now I haven't slept in what feels like forever, and my body is begging me to close my eyes and rest but I ain't stupid enough to sleep in this car alone. I'm grabbing my bag and quickly sliding out the door after him, jogging up to his side and falling into a comfortable pace as we approach the joint.

"Don't talk to no one in here," he grumbles, "anyone asks who ya are ya just say yer a friend o'mine and they'll let ya be."

"What if they ask how old I am?" Cause even if I spent my time in the bar with Tyreese while I was fetching my Daddy it didn't mean I was old enough to actually be in one.

Daryl comes to a sudden halt, "Christ girl, how old are ya really?"

"Eighteen." I mutter softly under my breath.

He grunts, eyes roaming over me and givin' me that dizzy feeling again, "Lie." Is all he says before starting to walk off again.

Horton's bar was a lot shitter than Ty's place.

When we stepped inside I was assaulted by the thick smell of smoke and old cheap beer. It was still early enough in the afternoon for people to be working, but there were a few stragglers at the counter that looked like they had been sitting in the same spot for days on end. Daryl guided me by them, scowling at a few who had chosen to look up from their drinks and give me the once over.

"Daryl," the man behind the bar leaned forward and tossed her bar rag on the counter, "Who's your friend?"

"Sit," he mumbled to me, and I slid up onto the barstool. "Axel..Beth…Beth…Axel."

He wasn't one for cordial introductions I guess.

"Well hi there Beth," he smiled wide, the yellowing of his teeth reminding me too much of my Daddy's pedophile friends who used to hit on me back home. "Can I get you somethin'?"

My eyes find Daryl's and he shakes his head slightly.

"I'm fine, thanks." I give Axel a polite smile back and he's grinning even crazier now; like this is the first time in years a girl has even acknowledged him.

"Look," Daryl's got his finger pointed across the room at the front door. "I'm goin' ta be right there bouncin' the door for a little while. Just sit here and don't drink nothin'…don't talk to no one…just – just don't do anything stupid, ok."

Honestly I'm a little taken back that he thinks I'm some bimbo girl that's just goin' to cause trouble, but I ain't in the mood for any more yelling or arguing so I just tell him that I'll be fine and to get to work. The faster he's done with this gig the faster I can be on the road to mine.

The first hour ain't so bad sitting there on that barstool watching the afternoon drunks get their fix. Almost had me believing that at any minute my Daddy was going to come walking through that door and take a seat next to me. They long forgot I'm even sitting at the far end, too busy talking about their glory days and what slut in town gives the best blow jobs or somethin' to that nature.

Hour two has me tapping my fingernails against the bartop; drumming out a rhythm that I can recall hearing on the radio once or twice. Guess all that drumming was getting distracting cause Axel's coming back my way with that creepy grin again.

"You sure I can't get you somethin' while you sit here, darlin'?" He's holding a bottle of scotch and swirling the contents lazily.

"I'm ok." Even though my stomach is grumbling and I'm dying for a soda pop.

"So how do ya know Daryl?" He's leaning forward, and I can't help but notice this scruffy guy at the bar is now looking at me too.

I look over at Daryl by the doorway. He's in mid conversation with some guy in leather, and although I don't want to make him angry for talkin' to these people I don't want to be rude either.

"He's a friend of mine." I casually reply, trying my best to make it sound somewhat believable.

"Daryl ain't got many friends." The scruffy guy chimes in from his seat.

I shrug, "Well he's got me." And for some reason my hand snakes down to the spot where he bandaged me up earlier in his bathroom. Seemed like a damn lifetime ago.

"So if ya are friends with Daryl, then ya got to know Merle." Scruffy beard guy is scooting a bit closer now and I'm not feeling all too comfortable with the third degree.

"Hey Mister, ya got a bathroom?" I quirk my brow and avoid answering scruffy faces question.

Axel shakes his head with a laugh and points towards the back of the bar. "Sorry if it's a mess in there. We don't get too many ladies comin' in."

Moving off the stool and towards the back of the bar I shoot another glance at Daryl. He's still talkin' to the guy in leather so I look back at the bar and I can see Axel and scruffy beard whispering and laughing to each other. Just as I'm about to look away they both look up at me and smile. Something doesn't add up. Something doesn't feel right about this place or these men. It has me shifting back and forth on my feet for a moment before I decide to just suck it up and go into the bathroom.

Axel was right. The bathroom smelled worse that the manure piles back at the barn. Filthy too. Just a sink and two stalls and grime everywhere. Carefully I place my bag on the sink and begin searching around for my hairbrush. It's been a good day since I combed it through and being stuck in this dirty place has me feeling even more grossed out. I contemplate using the toilet too. I wasn't one hundred percent sure that the bus would have a bathroom so better that I go here and now then end up peeing myself in my seat on the way to Nashville.

I leave my bag on the sink and slip into the second stall from the door. I didn't expect it to be any cleaner in here then it was out there so I did the ol' hover maneuver and squat over the toilet to do my business. Settled and refreshed from emptying my bladder, I click the lock on the door open and head back to my bag on the sink. It's the same time the door to the bathroom opens up and ol' scruffy face comes waltzing in.

"Think ya got the wrong bathroom, Mister." I say casually, trying to smile even though my heart is racing.

"Do I?" He asks, letting it swing shut behind him while he takes a look around.

" It happens." And I quickly move to get by him, but he's grabbing me by the shoulders and shoving me back hard; so much so that I fall into the first stall and hit my head on the cement wall.

Then he's standing there in front of me, his hand swiping up to tug at his short beard. He's laughing. The mother fucker is laughing at me.

"You ought to let me go, Mister. Just let me get on by." I steady myself against the stall wall, but he ain't budging none.

He's still laughing, and then suddenly he's jetting forward and clamping his hand down over my mouth. I can taste the dirt and grime on my tongue as I try to bite myself free.

"Yer a lively one, ain't ya?" He slams my head back again and now I'm seeing blasts of white light behind my eyes. "I ain't here to make nice with ya, girl. I'm here to relay a message from a friend o'mine."

And I knew who he meant. I had seen Merle hang up his phone before we left; I saw the look of pity in Carol's eyes when I waved goodbye.

"Merle wants to make sure ya keep yer mouth shut. Wants to leave you with a little warning and reminder what's goin' ta happen if ya squeal to any pigs on the street."

He's yanking at the button on my jeans, my hands slapping away like crazy as he tugs them down just enough so that they are around my thighs and exposing my underwear. He's still laughing wildly and I'm crying now. My sobs are muffled by one heavy hand while the other pokes and prodes at the back of my shirt now. When he fails at getting it off he just starts pawing at me…rough redneck hands all over my breasts and down my belly.

And I'm still screaming for help. I'm begging him with my eyes to stop but he keeps going with that sick sadistic look on his face.

I go to kick him between the legs but he manages to block me somehow. He uses this leverage to push me back against the stall wall even harder; I ain't got nowhere to go. I'm trapped. His body is pressed up against mine, his face a mere inch away from my own. "Ya know, I like little spry girls like you. The ones that wiggle around and scream and thrash…I like to break'em in real good. Give'em the real deal."

And in that moment I'm thinkin' that this is how I'm going to lose my virginity. Right here in the bathroom stall of some worn out old hole in the wall bar. Goin' to lose it to some half assed drunk who was tryin' to rape me into silence for a goddamn convict and his drug money. He's staring right through me now. Got that look on his face that says there ain't no turnin' back from something like this and so I feel my body go slack against the bathroom stall. I ain't goin' to fight no more. I ain't got the strength to fight him off physically and mentally.

The bathroom door slams open, and there he is. Finally.

Daryl.

And I don't know who I'm more scared of now…

The scruffy rapist holding me down or the man who looks like he's ready to commit a murder right there in the bathroom stall.

* * *

I know this is a slight cliffhanger, lol, but it's because I want to open chapter 6 with some really crazy shit that's about to go down. What do you all think Daryl will do in this situation? Any guesses?** Please leave a review and let me know what ya think. The next chapter should be up relatively quickly!**


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